"Midnight Mass! Oh, I have never been to Midnight Mass. It must be lovely. Four o'clock Mass was the earliest at our church, and Mother and Father and Uncle Frank and I went. It was pitch dark, and the stars were shining, and the snow was so nice and crunchy. That reminds me. We must do all we can this afternoon, Sister, because Uncle is going to take us for a long sleigh ride to-morrow."
A chorus of "Goody!" greeted this statement.
"Let's tell stories while we work, Sister," proposed Dora. "Christmas stories. You begin, please."
"Oh, no, save Sister Austin's for the last. Begin with the youngest. That's you, Effie." And the little five-year-old began, "Oncey-ponny-time."
When at last Sister Austin's turn came, she told them the beautiful story which never grows old—the story which gives the true meaning to Christmas. The sun had set when she finished, and Mary leaned toward her, asking in a low voice, "Do you know what time it is, Sister? Aunt Mary said she would come for me when it is time to watch for Uncle; but I am afraid she might forget."
"No danger of that, dear. It is only a quarter to five. At this time of year, the days are very short, you know."
Before another hour had passed, Sister Madeline came for the little girl.
"I have sent Peter with the sleigh to meet Uncle Frank, for it is a long, cold walk from the station. The small room at the right of the front door will be the very best place to watch for him. There is no light there, and we can see straight down the drive to the gate."
"And the sleighbells will tell us when he is coming, Aunt Mary."
Together they peered out into the darkness. After a long silence, Mary asked, "Aunt Mary, did you know that Father Lacey was going to let me make my First Communion when I was so sick, but I was unsenseless all the time? Oh, if I had not been that way, I could go to Holy Communion on Christmas! [1] Why do you think I never woke even for one little minute?"