"Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine."
--_Longfellow._

A GOOD and holy man sat down to rest one evening beneath the shade of
the palm-tree in a far Eastern country, far away from home and friends.

The sun was sinking in the west, the air was hot and sultry, and all
around him grew strange and wondrous plants and flowers.

It was a beautiful land, but the stranger's heart was sad within him. He
had traveled far in order to carry the story of "Jesus and His love"
into heathen lands, but here, among the followers of the "false
prophet," none would listen to his tale. Even now as he sat beneath the
palm-tree, the spires of the Mohammedan mosques gleamed white in the
distance, and he could hear the voices of the priests as they chanted
their evensong.

"How ever can I serve my Master in such a land as this!" exclaimed the
holy man.

"All around me seems to brood the spell of an unholy influence; even the
very flowers have taken part in heathen rites and ceremonies.

"Help me, Lord, for I am very weak," and the stranger bowed his head in
prayer.

Just then a thrill of hope and joy passed through his sinking heart, for
there in the green grass at his feet were the familiar star-like
blossoms of a tiny plant.

"The Star of Bethlehem" men call it, because of its resemblance to the
bright messenger from heaven which, years ago, led the shepherds of
Bethlehem to the birthplace of the infant Saviour.

And many and many times had the traveler gathered its pure white
blossoms beside his own cottage door, and now, as he saw it growing
contentedly beneath the shadow of those pagan plants, his soul was
filled with fresh courage. Here in a strange land the little flower told
the story of the Saviour's birth, and its presence seemed to shed a ray
of light and hope around.

Cheered and strengthened, the holy man went on his way, ready once more
to fulfil his labor of love, and to proclaim the good tidings of
salvation to all who would hear.