Amongst the earlier descendants of William the Conqueror was one Walthen, a priest, whose mother had married David, King of Scotland, and whose father bore in his veins the blood of the brave Siward, about whom you have all heard, no doubt. St. Walthen, of course, loved the beautiful feasts of Christmastide; and on one occasion, after a very fervent preparation, he was standing at the altar celebrating the Midnight Mass, when a strange thing happened.
It was so solemn, so intensely still in the chapel, that the very candles seemed to be holding their breath in expectation. The worshippers wondered that Walthen was so long at the Elevation. And what do you suppose was the cause? A very wonderful thing, indeed.As St. Walthen lifted the Sacred Host and pronounced the words of Consecration It suddenly disappeared, and in his arms lay a lovely Babe, smiling up into his eyes and stretching out Its tiny hands to caress him. The Saint's heart gave a great leap, and then he stood still for a long, long time, drinking in the beauty of the Blessed Child that had sought a Bethlehem within his arms. Then suddenly again the Sacred Host lay on the altar, and St. Walthen finished his Mass, with great thoughts swelling in his heart and tears of joy streaming from his eyes.
Who would not like to have been in his place that Christmas morning?