Alice skips down the stairs. “I never peeped! Honestly. But what can it be you have for me? It’s something to wear! Oh, I can’t wait.”
“And holly at the door....”
Father’s hammer tapping smartly, then the gay swinging green branch with its brave little bow of red. They all have to go out to admire it.
“And, Father, you should see the church! It’s wonderful this year. George Davis and Mr. Parmley climbed up on two ladders and tied the greens to the big cross rafter and fastened a silver star right at the top. It’s never been so pretty. And the tree! Mother, it reaches the ceiling! And Mrs. Davis was putting little white lambs under it and shepherds. We saw it when we were there practicing for to-night. Oh, I hope I don’t forget my speech.”
Immediately, concentrated, proud interest. Father and Mother sit down to listen once again. Alice stands in front of the table, her hands primly by her sides, her face upraised in gentle seriousness.
“The milk-white sheep looked up one night,
And there stood an angel all in white,
And though he spoke no words to them,
He was there on the hills of Bethlehem,
That very first Christmas morning!