The Bishop's Wife Page #9

one is neither hot nor cold,

hungry nor full.

No.

No. No, you must go away.

And never come back.

Julia?

Julia!

I've never before had to fight an angel,

but take off your coat

and put up your dukes.

Why do you want to fight me, Henry?

Because you're a thief.

Trying to steal my wife, my

child, the love that belongs to me.

Don't you realise that as an angel, I

could destroy you with a bolt of lightning?

I don't care. Julia means more to me

than my life. I'm not going to lose her.

Ah. Then I have news for you. I'm going.

I'll accept that as a

fact when I see it happen.

You won't. When I'm gone, you will never

know that an angel visited your house.

- And Julia, what about her?

- There will be no memory with her either.

Or with Debby or the

professor or anyone else.

- I don't trust you, Dudley.

- You may, Henry.

Because your prayer has been answered.

That's not true. I was

praying for a cathedral.

No, Henry. You were praying for

guidance. That has been given to you.

Just a minute, please.

Goodbye, Henry.

Dudley, if we should need

you again, will you come back?

Not I. I should ask to be assigned

to the other end of the universe.

Is that because I was so difficult?

Oh, no. This difficulty was in me.

When an immortal envies the mortal

entrusted to his care,

it's a danger signal.

Take her in your arms

and hold her tight.

Coming.

Kiss her for me, you lucky Henry.

Julia!

Julia.

Shh! She's asleep.

- Are you all right?

- Why, yes, of course I am.

Henry, did you get that for Debby?

No.

I can't imagine where it came from.

Why, Henry. What is it?

I don't know. I just had the most

inexplicable feeling of happiness.

- Oh.

- You know something?

- Downstairs there's a big bowl of cider.

- For tomorrow afternoon.

Let's drink it now. Let's drink to us.

To our happiness and what lies ahead.

Then let's smash the

glasses in the fireplace.

Listen.

That's coming from St Timothy's.

That cider will have to wait if

you're going to give your sermon.

- My sermon.

- Yes.

But that's better still.

? We join with them in adoration

? We join with them in adoration

? We pour to thee our supplication

? That thou wouldst

? Grant us, Lord,

? Salvation

Tonight, I want to tell you

the story of an empty stocking.

Once upon a midnight clear

there was a child's cry.

A blazing star hung over a stable

and wise men came with birthday gifts.

We haven't forgotten that

night down the centuries.

We celebrate it with

stars on Christmas trees,

with the sound of

bells and with gifts -

but especially with gifts.

You give me a book. I give you a tie.

Aunt Martha has always

wanted an orange squeezer

and Uncle Henry could

do with a new pipe.

Oh, we forget nobody

- adult or child.

All the stockings are filled.

All, that is, except one.

And we have even

forgotten to hang it up.

The stocking for the

child born in the manger.

It's his birthday we're celebrating.

Don't let us ever forget that.

Let us ask ourselves what

he would wish for most

and then let each put in his share.

Loving kindness, warm hearts...

and a stretched-out hand of tolerance.

All the shining gifts

that make peace on earth.

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