The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1890-12-24
Our Sons ano Girls.
The Christmas Spirit.

forehead against the window-pane and
heaving such deep-drawn signs as only
the heart-rending troubles of the very
young need for their expression.
What's the matter, Bertha?" asked
Aunt Fanny; "you seem very I'M
happy"
"Oh, Aunt Fanny. how can you ask
what's the matter2 You know" This
sentence was punctuated by genuine
sob, and forthwith the girl sat down for
good cry.
Bertha Miller was having almost her
first experience of real trouble, and she
found it bitter.
1t had commenced about three months
before, and eliminated now, Bertha was
sure; for what could be more dreadful
than not to keep Christmas?
Bertha's father had held high posi-
ton in manufacturing company. For
many years he had been in receipt of
large salary. He had always lived within
his means, had bought and paid for
handsome house, and had saved some
thing for rainy day, although he really
anticipated no reverses.
But in October of this year an accu-
mutation of msfortunes had caused the
firm which employed him to fail, and
with almost no warning he was thrown
out of employment.
He was not man to live idly, hoping
for some turn in luck, but, while seek
ing a position, at once cut down his
present expenses and prepared to ac-
commodate himself to his circum-
stances.
Mrs. Miller and the eight children
hal hot, .tc d. lo
the eldest, had kept up under their re-
verses with wonderful cheerfulness.
But last night came a stroke almost too
hard to bear.
After evening prayers Mr.. Miller had
said, gravely-and it cost him more 10
say it than it had to purchase all the
Christmas presents that he had ever
bought
Children, mother and have talked
it over, and have concluded that this
year you will have to go without Christ
mas presents. You have everything
that you need now, so that you would
only feel it mockery of Christmas to
receive some trifle such as we could
give. We think it would be bet
ter to be contented with a Christmas
dinner and try to keep the Christmas
spirit in our hearts if we can't have the
presents to keep it outwardly."
No one spoke for second after Mr..
Miller made this statement.
But finally three-year- old Robbie,
who only partially comprehended the
state of affairs, said, gravely,
" Has Santa Claus failed, papa?"
Robbie had heard so much talk of
failure lately that he thought such ruin
could reach even the immortal Saint
Nick.
They all laughed at Robbie's ques-
ton and said they'd get along perfectly
well without presents.
But am afraid eight pillows were
believed with tears that night, and /
am sure that there were eight very
sober faces next day in the Miller home.
Bertha had struggled against the gen.
-erai depression bravely until Aunt
Fanny's sympathetic question did, what
sympathy is sure to do, melt the girl
out of all composure into a perfect
storm of tears.
Aunt Fanny let Bertha cry until
little of the natural bitterness was
washed out of the trial, and then she
said, gently,
I" Pm afraid you haven't the Christ
mas spirit in your heart, dear. You
know the Christmas spirit, if there is
any that is worthy of the name, must
be spirit of giving, not of receiving.
Christ gave himself for us. As a gift
he came at Christmas. If we want to
be happy at Christmas we must be like
him."
81 know it, Aunt Fanny, and that's
just where the trouble comes. Truly,
| don't mind about not receiving pres
ents, but not to give a single thing"
and the thought brought fresh out
burst of grief.
"But you can give, darling. The
Bible says we must give according to
what we have, not according to what
we have not. If you wanted to, you
might make great many happy this
Christmas by giving just what you
have"
"What do you mean, auntie? I might
spend the money l have in the bank,
but mother thinks l had better not"
Aunt Fanny wanted to interest
Bertha in something definite, so she
was ready with her reply.
"I'll tell you what / mean. There
are any number of poor children who
could be made happy by what would
seem very little to you, and would cost
you almost nothing but thought and
labor.'
"Do tell me your plan, auntie; for
know you have one by the looks of
your face"
Bertha had ceased to sob now, and
looked a good deal like her bright,
happy self
My plan is just this. Think up
about a dozen poor children, make
them some clothing out of the worn
out garments about the house, pick up
few toys the children have discarded,
invite the dozen little ones to tea
Christmas night, give them the pres
ents and make the day generally de-
lightful for them. You will think of
details much better than / can.'
Two hours later, when Mr.. Miller
came home from the city, he was
greeted by perfect whirlwind of de-