Cradle Hymn

A Christmas Story

By Simply Shelby

The ground outside the printhouse building was covered in a light dusting of snow. The terrain beneath peeked out from its blanket of white and sky above the building was a dreary grey and clouds moved slowly over its surface. It was a cold, yet beautiful winter day.

Inside the printhouse, a young woman sat in a simple rocking chair, near the window, swaying the young child in her arms back and forth. Her fiery, red hair was unbound from her usual ponytail and her emerald green eyes were slowly drooping. The child had been sleeping for several minutes and she felt as though she would join him in a few moments.

Opposite her, in the parlor corner, stood a rather large Christmas tree, adorned with simple handmade ornaments, white wafers, several different flowers, and star-shaped pastries. Sarah Hiller smiled faintly as she remembered James telling her of decorating an evergreen tree. She'd thought he was insane until he explained to her that his friend, Günter, had told him it was a tradition in Germany. After that, she'd readily agreed and the tree before her was the result of their work.

The journalist's eyes slid closed as she fell asleep by the fireside, her child in her arms. Moments later, the parlor door was opened slowly and a young man slipped in. He was rather tall with blonde hair secured firmly to the nape of his neck. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips as his blue eyes caught sight of his wife and child. He set several packages underneath the tree and walked back out and headed to the kitchen.

He walked back into the room, several minutes later, holding a tray. He set it down and tiptoed to his wife. He kissed her forehead, "Sarah," he whispered, "Sarah, wake up."

Her bright green eyes fluttered open and she smiled, "You're back." She said softly.

"Mmmm," he responded, kissing her softly, "Yeah, I'm home."

He sat down and pulled her to his lap, careful not to wake the baby. She smiled and leaned into him, "How was it?"

A groan escaped his lips, "Boring." He answered succinctly.

She giggled, "Oh?"

"And miserable, and lonely, and-"

"Okay!"

He frowned at her, "I wasn't finished, Mrs. Hiller."

She frowned back, "Weren't you, Mr. Hiller"

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, "I plead the Fifth."

She pulled away, "You would." Sarah whispered.

He began to stroke her hair, "Sarcastic now, aren't we?"

"I had a good teacher," his wife threw back.

"Coffee's getting cold."

The argument stopped as James poured the coffee. Sarah sipped it slowly, holding onto the cup with one hand and her baby with the other. The child shifted and his eyes blinked open. A scream tore from his mouth and Sarah set her coffee down and stood up, bouncing the baby. He wouldn't stop crying. After a while, James stood and asked to give it a try. Sarah handed the baby over and took a seat, exhausted.

He held the child close to his chest, whispering as he bounced the child, "Benj, stop giving your mother a hard time." The baby kept crying. Glancing at his wife, James began to softly sing:

Sleep, sweet babe! my cares beguiling:
Mother sits beside thee smiling;
Sleep, my darling, tenderly!
If thou sleep not, mother mourneth,
Singing as her wheel she turneth:
Come, soft slumber, balmily

The baby quieted and Sarah stared in awe at her husband as he sat back down beside her. Benjamin Hiller's eyes began to tire as he looked up at his parents and soon enough they slid closed. Sarah rested her head on James's shoulder, "You should sing to him more often."

James looked down at his wife and kissed her forehead. "Thank you."

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Hiller."

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Hiller."

FIN

Author's Note:
The son that James sings above is titled: The Virgin Cradle-Hymn.
It was written and published around the mid-1700s