This has usually been a very busy day with me, preparing for Christmas
not only for my own tables, but for gifts for my servants. Now how
changed! No confectionery, cakes, or pies can I have. We are all sad;
no loud, jovial laugh from our boys is heard. Christmas Eve, which
has ever been gaily celebrated here, which has witnessed the popping
of fire-crackers [the Southern custom of celebrating Christmas with
fireworks] and the hanging up of stockings, is an occasion now of
sadness and gloom. I have nothing even to put in Sadai's stocking,
which hangs so invitingly for Santa Claus. How disappointed she will
be in the morning, though I have explained to her why he cannot come.
Poor children! Why must the innocent suffer with the guilty?
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