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PERTH,WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER ? A, 1944.
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ELLIN OTT ELLIOTT v
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SEVENTY-FIRST YEAR.
'Was the daily lipe of the flo[V Jami[V like this? (Note: In this imaginative sketch we will present Our Lady as she most probably was seen and known by those closely associated with her fn life. This is not Mary in glory; it is Mary living the life God assigned to her, the same kind of life that He as. signs to the great majority of His sons and daughters.) The setting sun was pushing hot, impertinent fingers into the room. A crowd of children whooped passed the open door, dashing in pursuit of a ball that was being kicked along the dusty street by sturdy young legs.
When Joseph Toiled and Jesus Played
Mary glanced up quickly, and her face broke into a smile. How good it ewas that her little Son was strong and healthy, vigorously enthusiastic about games, expert in the ever-ancient, always-fresh sports of boyhood, inventive of new games that required a minimum of equipment. As the youngsters flashed past the door, she caught a glimpse of Him; He was well in the lead, His arms reaching out to make an incredible catch of the leather ball, which had been kicked almost over His head. Ile would be hungry when He came back for the evening meal. She leaned forward on the little stool on which she sat and picked out another large onion. Onions always made her eyes water and left on her fingers astain and odour that lasted for days, but onions were good for a growing boy and added flavour to the sometimes flat stew that simmered on the charcoal brazier. A villager paused at the door, squinting into the dusky interior of the room. "Joseph back in the shop?" he asked. He was balancing on his broad shoulders a broken table that draped over his back like a heavily starched cape. Vary couldn't quite resist the thought that he'd be warmer with something softer around him. But when she nodded toward the carpenter shop silently and with a friendly smile, the man mumbled vague gratitude and thumped around the side of the house, where Joseph was hammering away at another job. Joseph would be hungry too, Mary thought. She opened the large wooden cupboard that stood against the wall. A small piece of smoked meat hung from an iron hook . She had already sliced off a sizable piece. If she cut into it again ... what would they do for food to-morrow? Thd meat was all that... . She dismissed the thought of to-mor. row from her mind and sawed at the tough, stringy, salty stuff with the heavy knife she used for a hundred different kitchen purposes. The hour for the evening meal was very close. She pushed from the wall where it stood between ,Ineals the heavy, roughhewn table that served the greatest variety of purposes in the house. A splinter from the wood bow
ied itself in her palm, and she parsed for a minute to draw it out with her white teeth. She must remind Joseph to plane the table smooth again. Into the centre of the room she shoved the heavy table; from a shelf in the corner she took alamp. It was always dark by the time Joseph came in from the shop, and she liked the place to be bright and warm then with the soft light shed by the burning oil. The minute she lifted the lamp, however, she knew it was empty, so she walked back to the cupboard and found the oil jug.
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There were the deep wooden bowl out of which Jesus ate all His meals and the small spoon that Joseph had given Him the day He was weened: She had thought it absurdly large then, though she thanked Joseph gratefully and did not point out that the Baby's mouth was quite tiny. Now she realised that she would have to ask Joseph to replace the spoon with a larger one. At Joseph's place she set the deep platter that he used and the clay pot out of which he drank his sour - red wine . Her own dish was a smaller one of rough clay. Sometimes her delicate nerves were set on edge as her wooden spoon scraped against it. Anne had given her some really pretty dishes when she and Joseph were married, but during the stay in Egypt those had disappeared with so much else of their household goods. The jug of wine stood in the cool corner of the lean-to, where the earth remained fresh and moist even in the hot afternoons. She carried the jug into the room and placed it on the floor beside his stool. The ancient skin bottle hanging against the wall held the goat' s milk she kept for her growing Son. She laid her hand agaim st it. Yes; the scarcely perceptible evaporation kept it sweet and cool. The villager thumped back along- r side the house and passed her door without looking in again. After all men didn't go staring into rooms that properly belonged to women and their families. Mary whisked off her soiled apron and from the drawer of her bedroom chest took a clean one. No one, she thought, could easily notice the patch that covered a hole where a hot coal had fallen. She glanced at the wisteria beside the window of her 'bedroom and noted that it had started to bloom. She leaned out of the casement and picked a few blossoms ; they added a pretty homelike touch to the table .The sun, as if it knew that its work was over for the day, pulled back a last lean finger and plumped out of sight. She lit the lamp. Mary inspected her little table, sniffed again the stew, and waited expectantly. Jesus and Joseph were alway's , prompt. Joseph's heavy, weary step sounded in the narrow court,and he was in the The jug was rather frighteningly light; room, she made a rapid calculation of just " A hard day," he said. Then lookhow soon she could afford to lay in a ing at the table, " It's good to come home to food and light—and flowers." new supply of oil. This she did while A quick rush of healthy young feet, she swung the jug to her shoulder and, balancing it carefully, poured the thick, and Jesus bounded in from the street. "Such a game!" He cried. ' But smelly fluid into the lamp, With a little Philip won. He's such a tiny slight effort she replaced the jug. fellow:' His eager young eyes swept From the shelf that had lately car. ried the lamp she picked up the dishes the room. " Mother. dear, I'm so hungry, and you're such a good cook." out of which the three would eat. Her Mary smiled in happiness beyond fingers were too accustomed to their rough surfaces to notice the grain of words. It was good—ah how good— to be housekeeper for two like these. the wood.
God's Mother Knew the Monotony of Household Work
E. LUISINI
RetisteM at the G. P.O, Perth,for
transmission by post as a newspaper.
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