Now, Brother Anselmo was ready to ring
the bell, but he had not the strength. He was a very old man and the
bell was heavy. The rope was stiff with ice, and snow blinded him in
the belfry.
Christopher knew Brother Anselmo very well. In the summer he helped
him tend his garden of herbs, and in the winter he brought him fagots.
With his bare feet Christopher climbed up to the belfry. With his
little hands he pulled with all his might at the frozen bell rope.
Then the bell rang out more sweetly than ever before to tell the
village and the Forest that it was Christmas Eve.
But a strange thing happened. As Christopher rang the Christmas bell
once, the trees in the Forest covered themselves with green leaves,
and the ground was no longer bare, but bright with flowers. A flock of
starlings flew to the top of a fir tree and stopped there, singing.
Their feathers glittered with gold and red like jewels, for they were
Paradise starlings.
Christopher rang the bell a second time, and the baby squirrels began
playing among the mosses. There was the smell of newly plowed fields.
The tinkle of sheep and cow bells could be heard, and the pine and
spruce trees covered themselves with red cones, like kings in crimson
mantles.
When Christopher rang the bell a third time, the wild strawberries
began covering the ground, red and ripe.
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