“It will be the happiest day I have seen for a month,” said Mrs. White. “I was thinking this very morning what would become of us; but you have filled my home with plenty. I shall never forget you, children.”
Then Flora danced three or four times round the room, for she was so happy she could not keep still. I hope my readers have all found out that “it is more blessed to give than to receive.” I am sure Flora and Frank were quite as happy as the poor widow—though her fears about her children being cold and hungry had suddenly been driven away.
She felt that God had heard her prayers, and made these children the agents of his bounty. Her eyes were full of tears, but they were tears of joy. As she heard the rattling of the sticks of wood which the men were throwing from the wagon, it seemed like sweet music to her ears. Then the barrels were rolled into the kitchen, the buckets placed in the closet, and the bundles on the table, so that the room looked just as though she had set up a store.
“These things are the Christmas gift of the children,” said Mr. Lee, when the articles had all been brought into the house. “They got up the affair themselves, without my knowledge. No one told them to do it; and I am sure they will all remember to-day as one of the happiest days of their lives.”
“They are very kind; and I shall think of them and pray for them as long as I live,” replied Mrs. White. “I was afraid this morning that we should all have to go to the poorhouse. I spoke to David about it, and the poor boy cried as though his heart would break. He is a very tender-hearted child.”
“I hope I shall be able to pay you for all these things some time,” said David.
“O, we don’t want any pay,” exclaimed Flora. “That would spoil every thing. This is our Christmas gift, David. You wouldn’t pay for a gift—would you, David?”
“You are very good, and I hope I shall be able to do something for you one of these days, Flora,” replied David. “You are very rich, and we are very poor, so that we can’t do much for you.”
“Yes, you can,” said Flora.
“What can I do?”