"Yes, mother. Where is Maggie?"
"I sent her out to get some thread an hour ago. She ought to be back by this time."
"I expect she is looking at the shops. She was telling me this morning how they were. Oh, how I wish I could see them!"
"I wish so too, Annie."
"It does seem hard not to be able to get about like Maggie. Oh, mother, why are we so poor? Has God forgotten us, do you think?"
"Oh, hush, my dear! No! God has not forgotten us; that is impossible! All the world may forget us, but not God!"
"But, mother, it's so hard to be poor at Christmas time!"
"Oh, Annie, don't say that! The joy of the Christmas season has nothing to do with riches, although it must be pleasant to be able to give happiness to others for Christ's sake. If we have no money to buy presents for those we love, the love is in our hearts the same; and the angels' message was to the whole world, rich and poor alike. Never mind our poverty, Annie, so long as Jesus is with us. Have you forgotten how He was born in a stable, and cradled in a manger, because His mother was of so little account that they could not make room for her in the inn?"
"Oh, mother, I do remember, but—"
"He was poor all His life," Mrs. Blundell continued softly, "and His friends were the working people. That thought has helped me to bear a great deal, for He understands all our trials and sorrows."