written by Violet Cobb
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Conrad the Cobbler
Before the Cathedral in grandeur rose
At Ingleburg where the Danube flows;
Before the forest of silver spires
Went airily up to the clouds and fires;
Before the oak had ready a beam,
While yet the arch was stone and dream;
There, where the alter was later laid
Conrad, the cobbler, plied his trade.
It happened one day at the year's white end;
Two neighbors called on their old time friend.
And they found the shop, so meager and mean
Made gay with a hundred boughs of green.
Conrad was stitching with face ashine
But suddenly stopped as he twitched a twine
and said, "Old friends, good news at dawn today.
As the cocks were scaring the night away
The Lord appeared in a dream to me and said,
"I am coming your guest to be!"
So I have been busy with feet astir
Strewing the floor with branches of fir.
The wall was washed, the shelf was shined
And over the rafters the holly twined.
He comes today and the table is spread
With milk and honey and wheaten bread."
His friends went home and his face grew still
As he watched for the shadow over the sill,
The knock, the call, the latch pulled up.
The lighted face, the offered cup.
He would wash the feet where the spikes had been
And kiss the hands were the nails went in.
And then at last would sit with Him
and break the bread as the day grew dim.
As Conrad mused there passed his pane
A beggar drenched by the blinding rain.
He called him in from the stony street
And gave him shoes for his bruised feet.
The beggar went and there came a crone
Her face with wrinkles of sorrow sown.
A bundle of faggots bowed her back
And she was spent with wrench and wrack.
He gave her his loaf and steadied her load
And sent her off on her weary road.
Next to his door came a little child
Alone and afraid in the world so wide
In the big wide world. Catching it up
He gave it the milk from the waiting cup
And carried it home to its mother's arms
Safe and secure from the world's alarms.
The sun went down in the crimson West
And with it the hope of the Blessed Guest.
And Conrad sighed as the world turned gray,
"Why is it, Lord, that your feet delay?
Did you forget that this was the day?"
Then, off in the silence a voice was heard.
"Lift up your head for I kept my word.
Three times I knocked on your lowly door.
Three times my shadow was on your floor.
I was the man with the bruised feet.
I was the woman you gave to eat.
I was the child on the homeless street."
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