He sat up, and threw his arms about her.
“Oh, I’m glad—I’m glad!” he cried. “Why, Mother. Then it wasn’t just the tree that made us happy, was it?”
She held him close. And as they sat in each other’s arms, in the bare room, with no tree, no roses, and even the clay for a moment forgotten, there came overwhelmingly to the woman, and dimly to the child, the precious understanding that Christmas is a spirit. And the spirit was with them, and made a third presence in their sudden, indefinable joyousness.
Tony drew a little away, and laughed up at her.
“Mother Margaret!” he cried. “It’s Christmas—it’s Christmas!”
“Yes,” she said, “yes, dear. Don’t you hear the bells?”
Tony shook his head. “We don’t need the bells, Mother,” he said. “Why, Mother Margaret!” he cried, “maybe now we can get the feeling every day!”
[24] Copyright by Crowell Publishing Company, 1915. Reprinted by special permission of the author.
THE UNWELCOME GIFT[25]
Julia Burket