Mister Goode opened the door. But instead of going
outside, he beckoned for whoever was at the doorsteps to come
into the church.
Three curious-looking men filed in, one close behind the
other. They marched, clomp, clomp, straight up on the stage.
"Look, Nannie," Papa whispered, "now we know why Lida Belle
bought that calico!"
"I declare to my soul, Jodie. I can't believe it!"
The men had on the most peculiar clothes I'd ever seen: long,
flowing robes that dragged to the floor; high, bespangled
headgear that reached halfway to the ceiling. They looked a good
bit like the kings in my storybook. That's what they were! Real
live kings! But where did they come from?
I jumped up to see what they would do with the pretty
sparkling chests they were toting. These might be three more
presents to put on the tree for somebody. No. The kings didn't
even look at the Christmas tree.
They lined up in a straight row in front of the sleeping baby.
Then the one who wore the purple robe nodded to the one in
yellow. He, in turn, cut his eyes around toward the one wearing
red.
Pages:
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218