Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84in the village who was as rich as he was. He was the best farmer, the richest farmer, the best chess player; and he was honest and righteous, too. He lived alone with his servants. His wife had died years ago. But this Christmas he was not thinking of his wife. He was always alone, thinking about himself. How good the harvest had been this year! What an important man he was in the village! When he walked through the streets they took their hats off as he passed. When somebody needed help – he gave it. When somebody needed work – he gave it. If anybody needed money – he lent it. Suddenly the door opened. A servant came in. “It is rather late, Dyhema. Shall I keep the Christmas tart hot in the oven?” Dyhema looked at the clock. “The minister is late,” he said. “Yes, keep the tart hot.” The servant, moving toward the doorway, said, “I am afraid the minister will not come. The snow is very deep.” Dyhema looked cross, but he only said, “I can wait.” When the servant had gone, Dyhema stood up and looked out of the window. “Dear me, what a lot of snow,” he said. “I am sure the minis- ter will not come. The snow is very deep.” Dyhema looked at the chessboard with longing eyes. But somebody was coming! The Christ Child! The whole day the Christ Child had been very busy. Christmas is his time, for then the hearts of people open, and that is what the Christ Child needs: open hearts. People think of their youth, how nice Christmas was at home. They think about their lives, and how things have turned out wrong. They long to change, to start anew. Then the Christ Child comes. The whole day the Christ Child had been very busy. One thing had still to be done: to go to the old farmer, Dyhema. When God had told him that, he had said, “But his heart is not at all open.” But God had only said, “Go. It has been closed and hard for too long. It is time now.” As the Christ Child was walking through the snow, he thought this over. What could he do? But when God says, “It is time,” then it is time. And so at once the Christ Child was in the room of the old farmer. Nobody had heard him coming; nobody had seen him, but suddenly he was there. “Good evening, Dyhema,” he said, in his beautiful voice. 66 Plough Quarterly • Winter 2017