The Wooden Shoes Of Little Wolff

: Good Stories For Great Holidays


Once upon a time,--so long ago that the world has forgotten the

date,--in a city of the North of Europe,--the name of which is so hard

to pronounce that no one remembers it,--there was a little boy, just

seven years old, whose name was Wolff. He was an orphan and lived with

his aunt, a hard-hearted, avaricious old woman, who never kissed him but

once a year, on New Year's Day;
and who sighed with regret every time

she gave him a bowlful of soup.

The poor little boy was so sweet-tempered that he loved the old woman in

spite of her bad treatment, but he could not look without trembling at

the wart, decorated with four gray hairs, which grew on the end of her


As Wolff's aunt was known to have a house of her own and a woolen

stocking full of gold, she did not dare to send her nephew to the school

for the poor. But she wrangled so that the schoolmaster of the rich

boys' school was forced to lower his price and admit little Wolff among

his pupils. The bad schoolmaster was vexed to have a boy so meanly clad

and who paid so little, and he punished little Wolff severely without

cause, ridiculed him, and even incited against him his comrades, who

were the sons of rich citizens. They made the orphan their drudge and

mocked at him so much that the little boy was as miserable as the

stones in the street, and hid himself away in corners to cry--when the

Christmas season came.

On the Eve of the great Day the schoolmaster was to take all his pupils

to the midnight mass, and then to conduct them home again to their

parents' houses.

Now as the winter was very severe, and a quantity of snow had fallen

within the past few days, the boys came to the place of meeting warmly

wrapped up, with fur-lined caps drawn down over their ears, padded

jackets, gloves and knitted mittens, and good strong shoes with thick

soles. Only little Wolff presented himself shivering in his thin

everyday clothes, and wearing on his feet socks and wooden shoes.

His naughty comrades tried to annoy him in every possible way, but

the orphan was so busy warming his hands by blowing on them, and was

suffering so much from chilblains, that he paid no heed to the taunts of

the others. Then the band of boys, marching two by two, started for the

parish church.

It was comfortable inside the church, which was brilliant with lighted

tapers. And the pupils, made lively by the gentle warmth, the sound of

the organ, and the singing of the choir, began to chatter in low tones.

They boasted of the midnight treats awaiting them at home. The son of

the Mayor had seen, before leaving the house, a monstrous goose larded

with truffles so that it looked like a black-spotted leopard. Another

boy told of the fir tree waiting for him, on the branches of which hung

oranges, sugar-plums, and punchinellos. Then they talked about what the

Christ Child would bring them, or what he would leave in their shoes

which they would certainly be careful to place before the fire when they

went to bed. And the eyes of the little rogues, lively as a crowd of

mice, sparkled with delight as they thought of the many gifts they

would find on waking,--the pink bags of burnt almonds, the bonbons, lead

soldiers standing in rows, menageries, and magnificent jumping-jacks,

dressed in purple and gold.

Little Wolff, alas! knew well that his miserly old aunt would send him

to bed without any supper; but as he had been good and industrious all

the year, he trusted that the Christ Child would not forget him, so he

meant that night to set his wooden shoes on the hearth.

The midnight mass was ended. The worshipers hurried away, anxious to

enjoy the treats awaiting them in their homes. The band of pupils, two

by two, following the schoolmaster, passed out of the church.

Now, under the porch, seated on a stone bench, in the shadow of an

arched niche, was a child asleep,--a little child dressed in a white

garment and with bare feet exposed to the cold. He was not a beggar, for

his dress was clean and new, and--beside him upon the ground, tied in a

cloth, were the tools of a carpenter's apprentice.

Under the light of the stars, his face, with its closed eyes, shone

with an expression of divine sweetness, and his soft, curling blond hair

seemed to form an aureole of light about his forehead. But his tender

feet, blue with the cold on this cruel night of December, were pitiful

to see!

The pupils so warmly clad and shod, passed with indifference before

the unknown child. Some, the sons of the greatest men in the city, cast

looks of scorn on the barefooted one. But little Wolff, coming last

out of the church, stopped deeply moved before the beautiful, sleeping


"Alas!" said the orphan to himself, "how dreadful! This poor little one

goes without stockings in weather so cold! And, what is worse, he has no

shoe to leave beside him while he sleeps, so that the Christ Child may

place something in it to comfort him in all his misery."

And carried away by his tender heart, little Wolff drew off the wooden

shoe from his right foot, placed it before the sleeping child; and as

best as he was able, now hopping, now limping, and wetting his sock in

the snow, he returned to his aunt.

"You good-for-nothing!" cried the old woman, full of rage as she saw

that one of his shoes was gone. "What have you done with your shoe,

little beggar?"

Little Wolff did not know how to lie, and, though shivering with terror

as he saw the gray hairs on the end of her nose stand upright, he tried,

stammering, to tell his adventure.

But the old miser burst into frightful laughter. "Ah! the sweet young

master takes off his shoe for a beggar! Ah! master spoils a pair of

shoes for a barefoot! This is something new, indeed! Ah! well, since

things are so, I will place the shoe that is left in the fireplace, and

to-night the Christ Child will put in a rod to whip you when you wake.

And to-morrow you shall have nothing to eat but water and dry bread, and

we shall see if the next time you will give away your shoe to the first

vagabond that comes along."

And saying this the wicked woman gave him a box on each ear, and made

him climb to his wretched room in the loft. There the heartbroken little

one lay down in the darkness, and, drenching his pillow with tears, fell


But in the morning, when the old woman, awakened by the cold and shaken

by her cough, descended to the kitchen, oh! wonder of wonders! she

saw the great fireplace filled with bright toys, magnificent boxes of

sugar-plums, riches of all sorts, and in front of all this treasure, the

wooden shoe which her nephew had given to the vagabond, standing beside

the other shoe which she herself had placed there the night before,

intending to put in it a handful of switches.

And as little Wolff, who had come running at the cries of his aunt,

stood in speechless delight before all the splendid Christmas gifts,

there came great shouts of laughter from the street.

The old woman and the little boy went out to learn what it was all

about, and saw the gossips gathered around the public fountain. What

could have happened? Oh, a most amusing and extraordinary thing! The

children of all the rich men of the city, whose parents wished to

surprise them with the most beautiful gifts, had found nothing but

switches in their shoes!

Then the old woman and little Wolff remembered with alarm all the riches

that were in their own fireplace, but just then they saw the pastor of

the parish church arriving with his face full of perplexity.

Above the bench near the church door, in the very spot where the night

before a child, dressed in white, with bare feet exposed to the great

cold, had rested his sleeping head, the pastor had seen a golden

circle wrought into the old stones. Then all the people knew that the

beautiful, sleeping child, beside whom had lain the carpenter's tools,

was the Christ Child himself, and that he had rewarded the faith and

charity of little Wolff.