Jo was the first to wake in the gray dawn of Christmas morning. No stockings hung at the fireplace, and for a moment she felt as much disappointed as she did long ago, when her little sock fell down because it was crammed so full of goodies. Then she remembered her mother's promise and, slipping her hand under her pillow, drew out a little red-covered book. She knew it very well, for it was that beautiful old story of the best life ever lived, and Jo felt that it was a true guidebook for any pilgrim going on a long journey. She woke Meg with a "Merry Christmas," and asked her to see what was under her pillow. A green-covered book appeared, with the same picture inside, and a few words written by their mother, which made their one present very precious in their eyes. Presently Beth and Amy woke to find their little books also, one grey-color1ed, the other blue, and all sat looking at and talking about them, while the east grew rosy with the coming day. "Girls," said Meg seriously, "Mother wants us to read and love and mind these books, and we must begin at once. I shall keep my book on the table here and read a little every morning as soon as I wake, for I know it will do me good and help me through the day." Then she opened her new book and began to read. Jo put her arm round her and, leaning cheek to cheek, read also, with the quiet expression so seldom seen on her restless face. Much impressed by the pretty books and her sisters' example, the other two started reading too. And then the rooms were very still while the pages were softly turned, and the winter sunshine crept in to touch the bright heads and serious faces with a Christmas greeting. "Where is Mother?" asked Meg, as she and Jo ran down to thank her for their gifts, half an hour later. "Your ma went straight off to see what was needed in a poor woman's home." Replied Hannah, who had lived with the family since Meg was born, and was considered by them all more as a friend than a servant. "She will be back soon, I think, so fry your cakes, and have everything ready," said Meg, looking over the presents which were collected in a basket and kept under the sofa, ready to be produced at the proper time." "There's Mother. Hide the basket, quick!" cried Jo, as a door slammed and steps sounded in the hall. The girls rushed to the table, eager for breakfast. "Merry Christmas, Mummy! Thank you for our books. We read some, and mean to every day," they all cried happily together. "Merry Christmas, little daughters! I'm glad you began at once, and hope you will keep on. But I want to say one word before we sit down. Not far away from here lies a poor woman with a little newborn baby. Six children are huddled into one bed to keep from freezing, for they have no fire. There is nothing to eat over there, and the oldest boy came to tell me they were suffering hunger and cold. My girls, will you give them your breakfast as a Christmas present?" They were all unusually hungry, having waited nearly an hour, and for a minute no one spoke, only a minute, for Jo exclaimed excitedly, "I'm so glad you came before we began!" Then the four girls put the cream, the muffins and the buckwheat bread into a big basket. "I thought you'd do it," said Mrs. March, smiling as if satisfied." You shall all go and help me, and when we come back we will have bread and milk for breakfast, and make it up at dinner time." They were soon ready, and the procession set out. A poor, bare, miserable room it was, with broken windows, no fire, ragged bedclothes
Output: Who got the green-covered book with a few words written by Mother as a Christmas gift?