 Family Theatre presents Morino Sullivan and Jack Haley. From Hollywood, the Mutual Network in Cooperation with Family Theatre presents The Juggler of Our Lady, starring Morino Sullivan and Jack Haley. Family Theatre's only purpose is to bring to everyone's attention a practice that must become an important part of our lives if we're to win peace for ourselves, peace for our families, and peace for the world. Family Theatre urges you to pray. Pray together as a family. Now to our transcribed drama, The Juggler of Our Lady, starring Morino Sullivan as the narrator and Jack Haley as Barnaby. In the garden of a certain monastery somewhere in France, there is a statue and those who do not know the story of it think it rather strange for it shows a weary juggler kneeling at the feet of Mary. It's really quite a simple story because Barnaby, the juggler that the story is about, was a simple man, the simplest of men. He was a juggler because his father had been a juggler and his father's father before him. In fact, the blood of some of the greatest jugglers of all time flowed in his veins. But he never thought of these things, for as I said, Barnaby was a simple man and gave his chief concerns to simple things like the towns within the circuit that he traveled and the kind of flowers that filled the meadows between those towns and he would think of the expressions of wonder that would come to people's faces as they saw him juggling the six silver balls and it pleased him to see the delight as he juggled the twelve sharp knives while balancing a turkey feather on his nose. Then Barnaby would pick up the pennies that the people threw him and set out to find a market place where he might buy some milk and bread and cheese. Three performances a day he gave, one before each meal, with sometimes an extra one thrown in for the children of each city who were always trailing after him begging for more. It was a good way to live and Barnaby's days were rich and happy and full for he loved the things that were a regular part of his life. He loved the flowers of the countryside that he'd see while he was on the road and he loved each little town within the circuit of his tour and he loved the children in those towns and knew the names of almost every one for even the simplest of men can recall the names of the things he loves and each evening before he rolled up in his carpet he would pray, oh how that man would pray and nearly always the same words. Oh God, my God, I thank you for the riches you have given me and I beg you to help me always to remember that all good comes from you. Help me to remember it, Lord, for Lord, I'm a ignorant man. And then beneath the stars Barnaby would sleep. As autumn turned deep shades of green to rust and changed the lighter hues to living flames the juggler would be longer on the roads for he never could tire of looking at their beauty and perhaps because he was a simple man he could never seem to realize that autumn's gold and colourings were also the forerunners of winter and so the rains would invariably catch him on the roads and he would have to travel through the mud to some large town where he might beg some kind innkeeper to let him pay his way by juggling for the guests. Here in France there was a terrible winter. The skies were black with clouds and the air was so cold that the sap froze in the trees and it happened that during this most terrible winter the emperor's armies were returning into feet and soldiers were being billeted wherever room could be found for them until even the inns were filled with overflowing and it was said that in that year more people died of the cold in the streets of Paris that had been killed in the whole war. It was a terrible year for France so you can imagine how terrible it was for Barnaby and then one white December day as he sloshed along the road with the twelve sharp knives stuck every which way in his belt and the piece of carpet thrown about his shoulders he saw a most wonderful sight. Praise be to God! Coming down the road right ahead of him was something that was almost beyond the imagination for it looked for all the world like a moving mountain. There was snow on top of it and it seemed to be moving on four feet in the most irregular manner. Then just as it seemed about to run over him the mountain stopped. Shook some of the snow off and two beefy hands came out of the sides and threw back the hood that had formed to the mountain stop. Are you going to rob me or not? Rob you, sir. A black mark against your soul to rob a priest of God, High Women. A priest of God? Oh, heaven forgive me, Father. I'm not a thief. I'm only a juggler. Oh, perhaps I've heard of you. No, I think not. Father, for all of the circus men of France I think I'm the least. The least? And from the look of you the coldest. I am very cold, Father. I've never been so cold. Have you a place to spend the night, Brother Juggler? No, I haven't, Father. Would you like to spend it in my house? In your house? But, Father, I have no way to repay you. Repay? Here, climb up behind me on the mule and don't talk about repayment. You'd spoil my chance to do my priestly duty and deprive me of the right of charity. Give me your hand, Brother Juggler. There's plenty of room at the monastery. But, Father, I'm so unworthy of so holy a place. Good. Then my heavenly reward for this is great. For as my master said, as ye do unto the least of my brethren, so ye do also unto me. Hey, Brother Juggler? Barnaby had never seen so wonderful a place as the monastery. The great halls were full of all sorts of wonderful statuary and paintings of the saints and of Christ and his blessed mother. So beautiful they were that Barnaby could not believe his eyes. And if the friar hadn't been walking along, it probably would have taken him two full days just to walk from one end of the hall to the other. There were so many beautiful things to stop and see. Kitchen was another magnificent room. There were rows of radiant brass and copper cooking pots that shone like little suns as they hung on their racks. And there was a great stone fireplace with iron kettles of wonderful smelling things cooking over it. There were great bins full to their tops with food and sides of cured meats that hung from hooks below the oak-beam ceiling. So I leave him in your hands, Brother Perot. Be sure he is not late for dinner. Hey, Brother Juggler? Well, sit down, Brother. Thank you, Father. Well, I'm only your brother. What is your name, my boy? My name is Barnaby. Barnaby? Well, Barnaby, we must find something for you to do. Something for you to do. If there's garbage to carry, the task I must give you is more difficult than that. You see, the winter has been long. And now, each of the potatoes in the bin has begun to sprout. So I must ask you to cut the sprouts from all the potatoes in the bin. As you say, Brother, cut the sprouts. The task, in a way, was easy for the Juggler. For had he not learned to juggle twelve sharp knives, one knife and one potato at a time, it was easy. So, soon the task was done. And no sooner had he finished than the dinner bell rang. And kindly, Old Brother Peru led Barnaby into the dining hall. A beautifully resplendent hall it was, with a huge stone fireplace at one end. And a table nearly as long as the room itself. And the table was crowded with food of all kinds. Roasts of lamb floating in lakes of green mint sauce. Roast chickens and ducks. A kind of food that the Juggler had never imagined existed. And every few feet along the huge table there was a pitcher of milk that was so rich it was almost yellow. And of course, nearly everywhere you look there were candlesticks. And the flames danced as if trying to add to the merriment of the assembled monks who all seemed to be at the very peak of the holiday spirits. And as Barnaby seated himself at the foot of the table, got up to speak. Let us remember as we enjoy our meal that it too like all good comes from God and that we must spend the energies we gain from the feast that is before us for the honor and glory of him whose birthday we celebrate today. Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bountiful hands through Christ our Lord, amen. Barnaby had been so many weeks on the road before the kind fry had rescued him. Oh, how many weeks he did not know. So it was not really so strange that the simple man asked whose birthday is this? I don't believe I heard you, my friend. Oh, forgive me. I do not know whose birthday this is. You do not know whose birthday this is. Why, this is Christmas day. Never since he'd been old enough to know what Christmas was had Barnaby forgotten. And now, in front of all these monks, all the humiliation of it to forget the juggler was so overwhelmed with the sense of his own ingratitude that his heart cried out. Oh, God, my God, how can you forgive me? You who never for once second have forgotten me. How can you forgive me for forgetting the birthday of your only son? And then, as if in answer to his prayers, my brothers my brothers be not so easily scandalized or so quick to judge. Our guest was wandering the roads when I found him and brought him here. How long he had been, I do not think even he can say. God does not hold a man accountable for the celebration of even such a feast as Christmas when he isn't so great a distress that he cannot recall the days. Let us be grateful for all he is with us instead of still on the roads and let us be grateful for the gifts we have. Now let us eat. I am sorry, brother. I did not understand. And then an astonishing thing happened. For Barnaby stood up from the table and with tears streaming down his face, he rang the length of the room and fell at the feet of the good friar. Father, father, I could never hope to be as holy as any of you but please, please let me stay here. I will try to do the work no matter how much it might be. If you'll only let me stay. He does his work well, father friar and Barnaby is a good man. If I only might stay here with you. The friar reached out and placed his hand on the juggler's head. This house is part of your inheritance. Our savior it was who said that the blessed are the meek for they shall possess the earth. Of course you may stay with us, brother Barnaby. Of course you may stay. So Barnaby was given a little room of his own and his name was written in the great book in the main hall as one of those who had joined the armies of God. Twelve sharp knives the juggler gave to the kindly old brother Peru that he might put them to some worthwhile use in the kitchen and he swore that never again would they be the tools of so common and disgraceful a profession as juggling. And then when there was no more work for him to do he would wander through the great halls wrapped in a constant joyous astonishment as he looked at the marvellous paintings by brother Celeste or the sculpting of brother Bissetti. They were almost alive those statues were. When brother Yan was working on his music Barnaby could usually be found tearing outside his door listening. Just listening and perhaps wishing that he could make music like that. Oh Barnaby was very happy at the monastery until one day when he was sweeping up the marble dust in brother Bissetti's studio. How is that brother Barnaby? It is the most beautiful statue that ever was. I have never seen anything so beautiful in all my life. I'd better come down off this ladder and take a look. Take my arm brother. I'm not so old as I look. This is the marble dust that makes my hair and beard white. As long as you're here though now let us see. Oh yes I I think it'll be alright. It looks so real now that it's finished. Not yet brother Barnaby. You see this gift must be perfect. There's not much time before the feast. That is why brother Celeste is making his wonderful painting and why brother Jan stays up so late with his music and why all the brothers are working so hard. They reach making gifts. But for what feast? For what feast? Brother Bissetti. Yes my boy. Brother... But it was of no use. Barnaby could not ask. He could not bring himself to ask. It was probably some great saint's day and after all he Barnaby had been the one who had forgotten Christmas. What is it brother? Nothing. It's nothing. I think I better go to the kitchen and help brother Peru. But brother Peru was not in the kitchen. Barnaby found him in the hot house outside the kitchen door where the old man was working among of all things roses. Roses in the middle of the most terrible weather that had ever been in France. Barnaby stood outside in the winter and watched brother Peru pottering among his roses in his own private springtime on the other side of the heavy glass. And the longer he watched the heavier his heart became. Barnaby? Is that you out there? Yes Father Prior. Will you catch your death lad? Come inside at once. Why did you not go inside? For I'm sure that brother Peru would not mind. I, I was ashamed Father. Ashamed? Why lad? What have you to be ashamed of? Everyone, everyone is preparing something for the feast except me and Father, I'm so ignorant. I don't even know what feast it is. Well they are preparing for the twelfth day of Christmas. The epiphany which commemorates the coming of the Magi just as the wise men gave gifts to the mother of God to keep for her son. So each of the brothers makes a gift each according to his skill. Father what can I give? I'm but a rough unskilled man. Oh, you've been but a short time with us. You will become skillful. You just give the best you can with purity of heart Brother Barnaby. Just give the best that you can. She will understand and so will her son. But Barnaby would not be consoled. He would wander from room to room watching the others as they prepared their gifts and then he would look down at his own hands and speak to them. How can I make a gift when I have never taught you anything but how to juggle six silver balls and twelve sharp knives? I'll be the only one who has nothing but God and he has given me everything. And he would not sleep at night. He would just stare into the darkness and despair too sad even to say his evening prayers. And the great day came and so did the townsfolk from miles around to see the wonders that they had learned to expect in the monastery on the feast of the epiphany. The main altar was resplendent with Brother Perot's red roses and there were other colors too and Brother Jan's music was so breathtakingly beautiful that the people nearly applauded catching themselves only at the last minute. And the painting Brother Celeste's painting it was so lovely that it made the women weep and the men tried hard not to and Brother Bissetti's statue of our lady was so lifelike that some thought the rose she held in her hand was real and nearly everyone would gasp on first seeing it. It was as though she herself had come to the feast to accept the gifts. Oh, it was a wonderful feast day and practically everyone thought that there never had been a day so much like a day in heaven. There was only one thing missing only one. Barnaby had not been there. He had spent the day in his little room so sick in heart he scarcely could move his head and every now and then he would say I'm so sorry so sorry I have nothing to give nothing at all to the townspeople had all gone home and all but the night candles had been snuffed out Barnaby raised himself from his straw mat and it was not long after that that a monstrous thing happened such an event it was that the world has never completely forgotten it. Father Director Father Pryor something something terrible a great blasphemy What are you saying brother Perot what are you talking about? At first I thought it was a simple robbery so I went to the chapel to pray for their safe return calm down I can't understand you calm down Father Pryor come with me you must see this sacrilege when the two had reached the chapel and pushed through all the assembled brothers brother Perot pointed in the direction of the altar when the father Pryor's mouth fell open with astonishment for there at the foot of brother Vasetti's statue was Barnaby he was kneeling on the lowest step of the dais and over his head were six silver balls and twelve sharp knives at the same time spinning in the air and each one barely missing the others as Barnaby caught them and threw them back in the air or he'd never tried so difficult a feat but he'd never had so wonderful an audience and then he concluded his act and for a moment stood and made a deep bow Mother of my saviour I have given you my performance it is all I have to give then unable to stand any longer he sank to his knees again and the strangest thing of all the statue moved what is happening brother Vasetti's statue of Mary moved she came down from her pedestal and a great golden light seemed to follow her when she came to the place where Barnaby knelt she gently mopped the perspiration from the juggler's forehead with her gun and then she gave him the rose that she held in her hand he has given the best that he had to give with purity of heart he is a simple man and good in the garden of a certain monastery somewhere in France there's a statue and those who do not know this story think it rather strange the statue is that of a juggler who kneels exhausted at the feet of the mother of God and underneath cut deep into the stone are these words blessed are the pure of heart for they shall see God here again is Jack Haley you know during this season of the year there's a lot of praying going on and that's a very good thing and since some of these prayers are set to music to form carols during the Christmas season it gives us an opportunity for a musical illustration of what we mean when we speak of the beauty of family prayer with Mr. Zimmerman's help we'll use the family of instruments in our illustration we'll start with the father and then the mother then let's say there's one son and one daughter pretty little thing isn't she now each of the members of this musical family is capable of carrying the melody of this beautiful Christmas hymn and the others but listen to them play the same melody not as individual instruments but as a family of instruments you see how the harmony adds beauty how the melody gains new importance family prayer is much the same for prayer is music to God and since we were created by him and since it is through him that all good comes to us then shouldn't we strive to make our prayers as worthy as possible as beautiful as possible as a family praying as individuals do make music in heaven but when they pray together well then they make a concert there's one other argument in favor of family prayer it's the promise of family theater uses for a slogan the family that prays together stays together more things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of family theater has brought to transcribe the juggler of our ladies starring Jack Haley and Maureen O'Sullivan others in our cast were Paul Freese Victor Rodman, Ralph Moody and Herb Ellis the script was written and directed for family theater by Robert Hugh O'Sullivan with music composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman this series of family theater broadcasts is made possible by the thousands of you who feel the need for this type of program by the mutual network which has responded to this need and by the hundreds of stars this show will give so unselfish leave their time and talent to appear on our family theater stage to them and to you, our humble thanks this is Tony Lofrano expressing the wish of family theater that the blessing of God may be upon you and your home and inviting you to join us next week when family theater will present Hound of Heaven starring Dan O'Hurley He and Raymond Burr Rosalind Russell will be your hostess and on Christmas Eve family theater will bring you a special Christmas program The Joyful Hour starring Anne Blythe, Jeff Chandler Bing Crosby, Irene Dunn, Stephen McNally J. Carol Nash and Maureen O'Sullivan with a special selection of Christmas music by the Roger Wagner Corral check your local paper for time family theater is broadcast throughout the world and originates in the Hollywood studios of the world's largest network this is Mutual, the radio network for all America