"My daughter," said Mrs. Fletcher gravely, "what is Christmas?"
"It is the Feast of the Nativity—of the birth of Christ," replied Ethel.
"What did God do for us on that day?" continued Mrs. Fletcher. "What does the Collect say?"
"He sent His only begotten Son to take our nature upon Him, and as at this time to be born of a pure virgin."
"Very right. And now why does the Church celebrate this day? What good came to men from Christ's coming down from heaven to earth, and taking our nature upon Him?"
"Christ came for our salvation," said Ethel in a low voice. She began to see what her mother was coming to.
"Yes. On Christmas day, our Saviour began His career upon earth, by taking upon Him the burden of our frail and sinful nature—began that life which ended with His death upon the cross, whereby He secured our redemption for us. Did you ever think why He might choose to come in the form of a child?"
"My Sunday-school teacher said it was in order that children might realize how He felt for their little troubles and cares, because He had passed through the same."
"True. And yet my little Ethel, because she cannot have just what she wants, and cannot celebrate Christmas in her own way, would rather not celebrate it at all. She does not care to thank God for the birth of His dear Son, because she cannot have what she has been accustomed to at this Holy Season, all the pleasures of which have, or should have, a direct reference to the great and unspeakable Gift made to us on this day. Is that right, my dear?"
"No, mother," said Ethel frankly. "I did not think of it in that way." She paused a little, and then added: "I was not thinking so much about getting presents, as about making them. I do so love to make presents! Cannot we have any Christmas money at all?"