“Because Uncle Mark is so sick,” she answered, stooping to kiss the little face turned up so anxiously. “We cannot be glad and happy here at home when he is so very ill, can we, dear?”
“But Mama, can’t we have any tree then, and won’t there be any Santa Claus?” begged little May, her eyes almost filling with tears.
“We shall see, my darling,” answered Mama.
You may be sure these things brought no little trouble to May and her big sister Dorothy, who boasted eight years, while May only could claim four. Like all children, they looked forward with great longing to Christmas, its presents and its joys, its songs and gladness. But we must know that all is not happiness in this world. There are great sorrows, and many homes are dark even at Christmas time. So it was in the otherwise sunny and cheerful home where May and Dorothy lived.
For alas, only a few days before, their dear Uncle Mark, always so strong and happy, had come home to the city very sick. Indeed, he had gone directly to the hospital. After a very serious operation, he did not seem to get much better. The children missed his glad and cheerful ways, for Uncle Mark was young and always had been full of fun. To be sure, he would always greet them with smiles even now.
It was very sad, indeed. Poor Grandpa and Grandma had come to be with their dying son, and every day they went to the hospital to sit with him. Poor little May could not understand it all, and when she brought flowers to her dear uncle, looked with big, round eyes of wonder to see him so thin and pale.
She went away after talking with Mama and played a while. Then she came back, with a question, of course, as usual.
“Isn’t Uncle Mark going to have any Christmas either, Mama?” she asked.
Mama looked into the earnest face and said, “Perhaps, darling.”
At that moment she caught a few words of the song Dorothy was singing in the next room and said, “Would my little girls like to sing Uncle Mark a Christmas song?”