“Oh, dear, it is almost Christmas!” exclaimed Mary Bradley with a deep
sigh, which caused her younger brother Horace to look up from his book
with surprise.
“Why do you sigh about it, Mary?” he asked. “Are you not glad that
Christmas is coming?”
“I _should_ be glad, Horace,” replied his sister in a melancholy tone,
“if things were as they used to be. What beautiful gifts we had last
year! But father was rich then; and now he is poor.” And again Mary
sighed deeply.
“I do not think father is very poor,” replied Horace, laughing. “I am
sure we have all we want,—a good house to live in, plenty of food and
clothing, a warm fire, and many kind friends. Do you call that being
poor, sister Mary? You ought to see the poor wretches that I meet
sometimes on my way to school.”
“How foolishly you talk, Henry!” answered his sister, rather petulantly.
“You know very well what I mean. Of course, we are not street beggars;
but we live very differently from what we did last year at this time.
Our beautiful house, our horses and carriage, and nearly all of our
servants, are gone.”
“No matter for that,” returned Master Horace. “Father has paid all his
debts like an honest man, and we have all we need. A small house is just
as comfortable as a large one; the cars and omnibuses answer as good a
purpose as our own carriage; and as to the servants, I much prefer
waiting upon myself. As long as I have good Mrs. Betty to cook my
dinner, it is all I want.”
“It is of no use talking to you, Horace,” answered his sister, as she
rose to leave the room; “but, when you see what a bare Christmas-tree we
shall have this year, you will be convinced that we are poor.”
“We had more than we knew what to do with last year,” persisted Horace,
following his sister. “Suppose we hunt up about half a bushel of books
and toys, and present them to Santa Claus for distribution. No doubt he
will be grateful to us; for times are hard, and his purse may be poorly
filled.”
“What nonsense!” exclaimed Mary, impatiently. “I will not stay talking
with you any longer.”
But, at this moment, the pleasant voice of their mother was heard
calling them from the adjoining room.
She had heard their conversation, and now replied to Horace’s
suggestion,—
“Your plan is an excellent one, my son; and I will try to put it in a
form that will be less displeasing to your sister.”
“Horace talks _so much nonsense_!” said Mary, as she took an offered
seat by her mother’s side.
“A _little_ nonsense, but a good deal of sense, my daughter,” returned
her mother. “Your mind is in a disturbed and unhappy state, and
therefore you are not ready to meet his pleasant way of treating our
troubles.”
Although Mary indulged in occasional fits of ill humor and selfish
repining, she was really a sensible and very affectionate little girl.
She loved her mother very dearly, and felt sad and mortified that she
should have added in the least degree to her trials. In a few moments,
therefore, she looked up with a cheerful smile, and said, “I will try to
do better, mother. I know we have every comfort that we need. It was
only the thought of the Christmas-tree that made me unhappy. But I will
try not to think of it any more.”
“Think of it in a different way, my dear Mary. Our Christmas-tree
will, I doubt not, be well filled, though with less costly gifts than
you have hitherto received. But how many there are who have no
Christmas-tree!—how many who will even want for food and clothing on
that happy day!”
Mary’s eyes filled with tears, but she made no reply; and her mother
proceeded,—
“When the Lord, in his divine providence, permits us to meet with such
trials as he sees to be for our good, we must not harden our hearts. We
will not look back with regret upon the luxuries we have lost: but we
will rejoice in the comforts remaining; and we will endeavor, as far as
possible, to share those comforts with others more needy than ourselves.
The proposal which Horace made in regard to your old books and
playthings is a very good one. There are many children who may be made
happy with what you now consider useless. Collect every thing which you
feel willing to part with, and I will add some articles of clothing.
Betty can tell us of several poor families who will be thankful for a
portion of our abundance.”
“I will go and look over our things at once!” exclaimed Mary. “I have no
doubt we can spare a great many. Come, Horace!” And, for the next few
hours, the brother and sister were busily engaged, not in useless
regrets concerning their own Christmas-tree, but in active efforts to
prepare gifts to adorn the trees of children far more destitute than
themselves.
Betty, having been made their confidante on the occasion, took much
interest in hunting up destitute families who were deserving of
assistance; and Mary and Horace soon found that there would be no
difficulty in disposing of their little stock. Long before the important
day arrived, the gifts at their disposal were done up in neat packages,
and duly marked with the names of those for whom they were designed.
Mrs. Bradley had added an ample supply of partly worn clothing; and Mr.
Bradley, when he found what was going on, had promised to provide some
articles of food to distribute among those who were most in want.
Mary and Horace were to have the pleasure of presenting these gifts
themselves; and they were now eagerly longing for the happy day, not for
the sake of what they would themselves receive, but that they might have
the happiness of imparting their blessings to others.
Christmas Eve came at last: and, attended by Betty, the children left
their little parcels at their various destinations; and then, with their
hearts warmed and cheered by the grateful words and smiles which they
had received, they turned their steps toward home, that they might enjoy
the pleasant sight of their own Christmas-tree, which they rightly
concluded would be brilliantly lighted up during their absence.
As they turned the corner near their own home, they met a pale-faced,
thinly clad little boy, with a small branch of evergreen in his hand,
which he was carrying carefully along, as if he considered it a precious
treasure.
“Is that your Christmas-tree, little boy?” asked Horace, as they drew
near to him.
“I found it!” exclaimed the child, joyfully. “I am so glad! Now Susy and
I can have a Christmas-tree!” And he was hurrying along; but Horace
stopped him by saying,—
“Have you any thing to put on the tree, little boy?”
“Not much,” was the reply. “But Susy and I have each got a penny: that
will buy something.”
“Who is Susy?” asked Mary, as the little fellow was again hastening on
his way.
“My little sister, miss. She will be so glad that I have got the tree! I
must go to her.”
“Come with us first,” returned Mary, “and we will give you something to
hang on the tree. I have a little doll for Susy, and some candles to
light up the tree.”
The little pale face looked bright and almost rosy now as he trudged
along with the children, still holding fast to his precious tree.
It did not take many moments to fill a small basket with what appeared
to the child great treasures; and his eyes sparkled with joy as a warm
cape was placed upon his shoulders, and a cap, long since outgrown by
Horace, upon his head. Finding, upon inquiry, that his mother was a poor
widow, residing in their immediate neighborhood, Mrs. Bradley directed
Betty to fill another basket with food, and accompany the child home.
Mary and Horace begged leave to go with her, although they had not as
yet given one glance at their own Christmas-tree.
It was a pleasant sight to look at little Susy, as her brother eagerly
displayed his treasures to her admiring gaze; and it was even more
gratifying to witness the gratitude of the mother, as Betty emptied the
contents of her basket.
After assisting in planting the branch of evergreen in a broken
flower-pot which the children produced for the purpose, Mary and Horace
took leave, and joyfully returned to their home.
Their Christmas-tree was indeed radiant with light. It seemed to the
happy children that it had never been so brilliant before; for their
hearts were filled with the delight of doing good to others, and this
made all seem bright around them.
Morning found the tree well loaded with fruit,—pretty and useful gifts,
which the children were delighted to receive. It was indeed a happy
Christmas. They felt that they were surrounded with blessings; and,
above all, they rejoiced in the happiness of sharing these blessings
with others.