Be like the bird that, halting in her flight,
Awhile on boughs too slight,
Feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings,
Knowing she hath wings.
They are in the habit of saying in the East that in India the flowers yield no fragrance, the birds do not sing, and the women never smile. In a sense, it is almost literally true. Flowers, even of the richest hues, give out but little perfume; birds of brightest plumage utter only piercing notes instead of sweet songs; and the faces of the women are sad as they go about, enduring their sorrowful lot. All this is suggestive of the spiritual condition of a country where the Gospel of Christ is not known.
Christianity brings joy. The message of the angel to the shepherds was, “I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.” Joy was born into the world that Christmas night when Jesus began His life on the earth. He came to bless men, to comfort sorrow, to open prisons, to lift the lost up to heaven. Jesus talked much about joy. He had a wondrous joy of His own. He was called a Man of sorrows – never was there any other sorrow like unto His sorrow. Yet all the while there was in His heart a deep joy which nothing could disturb. Before He went away He bequeathed His joy to His disciples, and prayed that their joy might be full.
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