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And there in the very center of her offering, this offering which she held up with shivering wrinkled aro entrusted to eously decorated in brilliant ruby red with the star of gold in the very center of the fra which had surely been her finest creation, the finest achievemen

t of her hours with the burning wax and boiling dye

It wasn't lost It had never been lost It was there But soreat swelling song of the , the tiny fluttering sound, the tiny cry

"Mother," I said I took it I held it in both hands and brought ainst the brittle shell

"No, my son!" she cried She wailed "No, no, my son, no!"

But it was too late The lacquered shell was srown bird, a bird of snohite wings and tiny yellow beak and brilliant black eyes like bits of jet

A long fall sigh came out of me

Out of the egg, it rose, unfolding its perfectly feathered white wings, its tiny beak open in a sudden shrill cry Up it flew, this bird, freed of the broken red shell, up and up, over the heads of the congregation, and up through the soft swirling rain of the green leaves and fluttering sparrows, up through the glorious cla bells, it flew

The bells of the towers rang out so loud that they shook the swirling leaves in the at colu all the reat resounding golden-throated peals

The bird was gone The bird was free

"Christ is born," I whispered "Christ is risen Christ is in Heaven and on Earth Christ is with us "

But no one could hear my voice, my private voice, and what did it ?

A hand clutched me Rudely, meanly, it tore at my white sleeve I turned I drew in my breath to scream and froze in terror

A man, come out of nowhere, stood beside lared down at me I knew his red hair and beard, his fierce and impious blue eyes I kneas my Father, but he was not my Father but some horrific and powerful presence infused into e, and there, planted besideht

He reached out and slaolden chalice It wobbled and fell, the consecrated wine staining the old