The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1929-12-25

DEAR Friend:-On a winters
Onight long time ago, when was
little tad, 1 had my face pressed to
the winter pane, and was gazig in
childish wonder at tie aurora bore
ais display, and 1 asked my good
mother what it was. She said that
on one knew, but that she believed
that the softly glowing fires were
good deeds and human love sent
out into the world to live forever.
A, beautiful expression.
You ask me why I go to the
country for my annual Christmas
story? For one thing, simplicity and
romance seem to grow sweetest
away from the pavements. love
the snow covered cottages; the still
ness of a frosty morning; the big
barns and haystacks; the struggling
fences; the old homes with rag car
pets and flreplaces; the winding
roads and ice-covered ponds.
The laughter Of children as they
trudge along to the school house is
the sweetest music in the world.
Also, love the big-souled people
who open both their hearts and
homes to you, once they discover
that you are their kind. 1 was born
in a country setting and, in spirit,
I still belong to it.
In fancy my feet carry me over
the hill to the grove back of the old
Austin place. 1t is sparkling winter
there now, and the place is popu-
lated by scolding blueSays and brill
liant redbirdS, while rabbits play in
the snow beneath the evergreens.
There, hidden in thicket, I find
my bag of tricks, just as I felt it
year ago.
unite the string and pour out
the contentS-pure gold-human
love, tenderness, sympathy; helpful
ness and understanding From these
I build my simple story and carry
you, my friend To- a Christmas in
1881, and then to the bedside Of
Aunt Libby Whaley.
You should know her. I'm GER
tain that you do know her. Think
of the woman whom you have loved
and honored most; assemble her
wonderful qualities of heart and
mind; crowd your brain with mem
cries of her good deeds and useful
ness-and there you have Aunt
Libby Whaley, aunt to every person
in our little village and loved by all.
e II
TINE Good God placed some
4 women on earth to serve. They
never give even fieeting thought
to self. They are present when
babies arrive to bless us, and they
are at the bedside of pain and SUI
fering. They close the eyes of the
dying in a final sleep and they have
an especial brand Of glorified love
for children. Aunt Libby Whaley
helped people to live. She was a
disciple of laughter. Men lift their
hats when they speak of the Aunt
Libbys of the world, and they
should.
Her home was a little white
cottage on the edge Of town, and
we'll do I remember her morning
glories, "pineys," sweet williams and
nasturtiums. Flowers loved her
and doomed for her In winter the
neighboring boys, Of whom was
one, dug the paths in the snow, and
ate caraway seed cookies in Aunt
E;hby's spotless kitchen while warm
ing our frosted toes at lscE 5S+ood fire.
There came day when she broke
down, just went to pieces, like an
old buggy. Old DR.. Brewster waggled
his gray head and said that she
might live on "for a spell" but she
never would get up again. Aunt
Libby took the news smiling. THE
Good Lord can have me when He
wants me-" she said. I'm happy
woman, rich in my friends and the
love of the children
But there was a dark side to
the picture. Resting on the cottage
with crushing weight was $3.50
mortgage, and Squire Thorndyke
held it. She had paid him 8 per
cent interest, and both principal
and interest was overdue. There
was very little money in the cracked
pitcher on the pantry shelf. That
pitcher was Aunt Libby's bank, and
as long as there was money in the
pitcher, it belonged to those who
had greater need of it than she
did.
CQUIRE THORNDYKE was the
y town money lender. and that
means that he was hated as we'll as
feared. He was tall and spare and