GUM CHING lived in America, but she had no way of knowing it, as she never saw any of the country, and was kept in her home all the time. As she was unfortunate enough to be a girl, she had never been permitted to go anywhere, except to play on the street in front of her father’s store. Sometimes, when playing thus, she had seen little American girls drive by in carriages with their mamas, and they seemed to be having so much fun that little Gum Ching would look very sad after they had passed, and would say to her brother Gum Lee: “I wish I was a ’Melican little girl—they have heap good time.”
It was Christmas day, yet this had never meant any happiness for Gum Ching, for the Chinese save all their good times for the New Year. But it chanced that her little brother had been attending the Mission, and learning to read, and the little sister had heard him say that they were going to have a Christmas tree at the Mission that very night.
“What can a Christmas tree be?” said the little Chinese girl to herself; and her thoughts were busy with this all day, wondering what kind of a strange tree it was.
Oh, if she could only go! But how could she, when she had never been out of Chinatown, and there might be all sorts of ugly things waiting to catch her as she passed. She could see the Mission from their upstairs window, and she wondered vaguely if any of the little “ ‘Melican” girls who had passed in their carriages would be there. She said to herself: “Even if they should punish me when I get home I no care—because then I have something nice to think of, anyway.”
The darkness came at last, and Gum Ching had never been out in the dark. She never knew before that it was quite so black, but she had made up her mind to go, no matter what the consequences were.
Now Gum Ching did not have any mama, and it was very lonely for her at home, with no one but just her ho chun and the little brother, who was always off playing with some boys. After she had eaten her supper, and had seen ho chun light his long opium pipe, she knew then that he would lie down, and not awaken until the morning. So she slipped out and toddled on, in her small sandals, in the direction of the light which streamed from the windows of the mission.
She looked up at the sky, and was just saying: “I wondeh what those pletty spahkling things are up there; I likee have one;” when suddenly she heard a mighty roar, and right through the blackness of the night came a great demon of fire, snorting, puffing, and screaming, and coming right toward the poor little trembling Gum Ching. She feared to move, and so stood quite still until the big giant had passed, and vanished again into the darkness of the night.
It was only the train, but Gum Ching did not know. She was only a girl. Onward she started again, brave little soul, and soon she had reached the Mission. No one would ever know what a terrible undertaking it was for a little girl from China.
The door was open, and a soft radiance streamed out, and lit up the timid form of the little Gum Ching, as she stood on the step, in the dark and the cold.
She could hear a confused murmur of happy voices, and just as she was hesitating whether she would venture in or turn and fly back to her lonely home again, a kind hand clasped hers, and a woman’s tender voice said: “Why, come right in, dear.”