“There was once a time when all the world was in trouble, without knowing exactly why,” said Mrs. Burton; “but the Lord understood it, for He understands everything.”
“Does He know how it feels to be a little boy,” asked Toddie, “an’ be sent to bed when He don’t want to go?”
“And He determined to comfort the world, as He always does when the world finds out it can’t comfort itself,” continued Mrs. Burton, ignoring her nephew’s questions.
“But wasn’t dere lotsh of little boyzh den?” asked Toddie, “an’ didn’t they need to be comforted as well as big folks?”
“I suppose so. But He knew that if He comforted grown people, they would make the children happy.”
“I wiss He’d comfort you an’ Uncle Harry ev’ry mornin’, den,” said Toddie. “G’won.”
“So He sent His own Son—His only Son—down to the world to be a dear little baby. And while smart people everywhere were wondering what would or could happen to quiet the restless heart of people——”
“Izh restless hearts like restless tummuks?” interrupted Toddie. “Kind o’ pumpy an’ wabbley?”
“I suppose so.”
“Poor folks!” said Toddie, clasping his hands over his waistband. “I’zhe sorry for ’em.”