"Robert F. Young - O Little Town of Bethlehem II" - читать интересную книгу автора (Young Robert F)

 Sandy asks him if we will be able to feel the Wave of Love when it arrives. He smiles. He is a short,
rotund man with a round face. "Yes, Sandy, I think we will. Those of us, that is, who are pure of heart,
and I don't think for one moment that any of us are not, especially the little children, of whom He said, or
rather of whom He will say, 'Suffer them to come unto me, and forbid them not; for such is the kingdom
of God.' "
After he leaves, Sandy and Drew pull the shades in the living room and begin reading a microfilm of
"A Christmas Carol." Melissa washes and dries the pots and pans she has dirtied; then she sets about
making Christmas cookies. The women's movement, which took such giant steps forward on Earth, has
of necessity, here on McIVIullen's Planet, taken several giant steps backward. Not that the women of the
colony have lost their equality—far from it. Someday on our brand new world there will be a wealth of
opportunity for the members of both sexes, but at the moment our little settlement has far more in
common with the one the Pilgrim Fathers founded in New England than with the ultra-modern world we
left behind us, so for the time being, women must do women's work and men men's.

We have a light supper. I have but little appetite and the kids only pick at their food. Melissa leaves
more on her plate than she consumes. Since our arrival on McMullen's Planet we have lived for this night.
It has made the hardships we have suffered endurable. This is true for all the other colonists. None of us
are "Jesus lovers." Catholics and Protestants alike, we are hard-minded, down-to-earth people. But we
are true Christians nevertheless, and we are awed by the thought that tonight our Savior will be born.
Sandy helps Melissa with the dishes. Afterwards the four of us don our best clothes. Best, that is, by
our own standards, but to the people of Earth, were any of them around, we would look like farmers as
we set out for the square. But neither Melissa nor I would find this offensive, for farmers are what we
have become.
The night sky is rich with stars and they seem to have acquired an added brightness. How marvelous
it would be if we could see the Star over Bethlehem! But we won't be able to of course, since it won't be
a true star, but a syzygy of Jupiter and Saturn.
But it will be in our skies even though we won't be able to see it, and its light will be one with the
Wave of Love.

In the square Melissa and I and the kids join the others who are standing around the tree. Its lights
have been turned on and glow warmly in the night and the star on its peak shines forth much like the one
the Magi will see from the east, even though the light from the syzygy has yet to touch our world. Mary,
Joseph and the shepherds gaze down with adoring eyes upon the Infant in the crib.
Pastor Rilke and Father Fardus (who is as tall and thin as Pastor Rilke is short and plump) are
standing near the creche. They join in when we begin singing carols. We fill the night with the words of
what for us is the most beloved carol of all—

"O little town of Bethlehem!
How still we see thee lie;
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by . . ."

Many of the people are visibly moved; I glimpse tears in some of the women's eyes. Tears of joy and
love.
At 10:15 Father Fardus begins the countdown. Except for his voice, there isn't a sound in the square.
"Six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two ... one . . ." All at once a brief brightness illumines the land.
Cynics would call it a distant flash of lightning, even though the sky is clear and no sound of thunder
reaches our ears, but there are no cynics among us tonight.
Father Fardus and Pastor Rilke kneel. The rest of us follow suit. And so help me, I can feel the
Wave of Love.