This Way to Christmas

by Ruth Sawyer

Father had laughed outright. “Nonsense, there is nothing to decide. Of course you stay with David. The war country is no place for either of you, and I shall manage perfectly by myself.”

“The war country is no place for David; but there are plenty of women over there working side by side with their husbands. Oh, my dear, my dear!”

Mother’s arms had gathered them both in and mother was holding them close. It was to father, however, that she was speaking. “I believe you are my little boy, after all. Manage! Over there! When you can’t take care of yourself in your own civilized country! No, my dear, you need a mother more than David does. Besides, there’s Johanna; we’ll send for her. She will look after David almost as well as I can; but what would she do with you!” This time the laugh had right of way and rippled all over mother’s face.

Father had stopped making notes and was looking at them both with that funny wrinkly smile about his mouth that David loved to see.

“Well, sir, what do you think about it?” he said, looking straight at David.

David had squared his shoulders and straightened his chin; but it took two hard swallows before he could answer. “I think, sir, that mother is right. You see I’m eight, going on nine; and when a—man’s that old he ought to be able to look after himself for a while. Don’t you think so?”

“He certainly ought to; but it seems that there are some who never are quite able.” And father’s hand had suddenly reached up to mother’s, which was about his shoulder.

That is all there had been to it. The next day Johanna had come—good, Irish Johanna, who had taken care of him as a baby and had stayed until he had outgrown his need of her and she had married Barney. The day after, he had said good-by to the boys on the block; and he had said it as one about to depart upon a rare adventure, taking his leave of less fortunate comrades. He did not intend that they should discover how much of his world had dropped away from him, or how he envied them the continued possession of theirs. Moreover, it increased his courage threefold to make believe that what had happened was not so bad, after all. In this manner he was able to assume an added stature, one fitting his newly acquired manhood, when the time came to swing the door of his home tight shut; and he was able to say a brave good-by to father and mother.

Now it was all over. He and Johanna were speeding toward the Hill Country, and he was glad, very glad, to be a little boy again and snuggle into the hollow of Johanna’s arm as he had been used to doing in the old nursery days. After all, eight-going-on-nine is not so very old.

David wasted no time. Out of the scraps that were left him he tried at once to build up a new world. He looked out of the car window at the fields and houses flying past, and he thought of all the pleasant things Johanna had promised him. Johanna and Barney were the caretakers of a big summer hotel in the mountains. The summer season was over, the hotel closed, and he was going to live with Johanna and Barney in the lodge and have a whole mountain-top to play on. He was going to help Barney cut down next year’s fire-wood and drive the sledge for him over the lumber roads. He was going to make a toboggan-slide down the cleared side of the mountain; he was going to skate on the pond above the beaver dam, and learn to skee, and a crowd of other jolly things. And in the spring there were to be the maple-trees to tap. Only, in the mean time, there were father and mother traveling farther and farther away; and there was Christmas coming nearer and nearer. And how could he ever stand one without the others?