From the Improvement Era, December 1948 –

Cynthia Curtis and Christmas

By Janice Olson
(Senior at BYU High School)

Cynthia Curtis quickly jumped out of her car in front of the luxurious house surrounded by beautiful gardens. She pulled her mink coat up around her shoulders. “I don’t see why it has to snow so much. If only Dad would take us to some warm place during the winter months!”

She paused at the front door. “If I can only get upstairs before Dad starts on his idea of bringing three children home from the orphanage for Christmas. Why should we turn our home into a place for any riff-raff whom no one else will take?”

Entering the hall she removed her coat and handed it to the small, dark-haired maid, who had been so faithful these many years. She made a dash to slip past her father who was telephoning in the hall, but he put the phone down when he saw her. “Oh, there you are, Cynthia. I want you to see the tree. It is a big one to stand on the floor. Every other year we have bought a tiny little tree for the table.”

“Oh, Father,” exclaimed Cynthia, “I don’t see why you did such a thing – the house will look like a forest – and besides, a small tree fits in much better with the furniture, but I guess I can buy another. I’ll take care of it, Dad; you needn’t worry.”

“No,” James Curtis replied, “the children picked this one out, so I got it, and, my dear, it is staying.”

Anger was clouding Cynthia’s blue eyes. “You can’t mean you’re actually going through with your plan. I invited Phil to dinner and – oh, how could you?” She fairly flew upstairs and slammed the door.

James sighed sadly – had he failed? If Mary could only have lived long enough to prove to Cynthia that money isn’t everything even though it can be very important at times! Money had never spoiled Mary. All her life she had shared with everyone – rich and poor alike. She was loved by all who knew her. She had died suddenly. It seemed like a dream now, seven years later.

He had tried to do his best for Cynthia. He had given her his love and everything money could possibly buy. He knew she expected him to give up the whole idea, and he had really intended to, but when he had gone down to the orphanage, the three kids – Tommy, Richard, and Brenda – had greeted him so warmly!

Mrs. Harper began telling him how the night before while going for a walk, the children had seen so many Christmas trees for sale. They had picked out the one they would like the best if given a choice. So, after they had gone on ahead, she had asked the man to save it. She hoped Mr. Curtis didn’t mind because she couldn’t resist when she saw how excited the children had been over it. She could just imagine their delight at seeing that particular tree all decorated on Christmas.

She finally asked him if he had come for any particular reason, and he just couldn’t tell her, so he said he wanted to make sure everything was straight. He would call for them Christmas Eve, at five-thirty.

Phil’s coming was something he hadn’t counted on. Phil was a young doctor who had completely won Cynthia. Lately, he had seemed to stay away. Cynthia had believed he should set up his office in the exclusive part of town in order to get just the “right people” for his patients.

“I’m right where I feel at home — the other side of the tracks,” Phil had answered laughingly.

James knew he meant he intended to stay there, too, and he could see why. Phil was helping people who really needed him. He wasn’t interested in money alone. If only Cynthia would try to give in just once, it would be so much easier.

The next two days passed very quickly. He was busy buying Christmas toys – he hadn’t had so much fun for ages. He roamed from one store to another. He couldn’t make up his mind which doll he liked best, the one with the blue dress and brown eyes or the one with the pink dress and blue eyes. Finally he solved the problem by taking both of them. He hid the toys in the basement. Cynthia would really “have a fit” if she got a glance at all this.

How he wished getting a present for her was as easy and as much fun as buying for the children had been. The trouble with her was that she already had everything.

Cynthia had stood it as long as possible. She was convinced her father didn’t know what he was doing. She herself would put a stop to all this nonsense. She marched into the orphanage. Golly! what a terrible place – the walls were so dingy and drab. The quicker she got this over with the better. Mrs. Harper approached her. “I’m Cynthia Curtis and –”

“Oh, yes, Miss Curtis,” Mrs. Harper exclaimed. “I have read about you so often in the paper. Your singing is very lovely. I read about your studying music in Europe for ten months. I have always admired you so much that I hoped I could meet you and get acquainted sometime. If you only knew how the thought of going to your place has helped those children; they are getting ready. You are a trifle early, but sit down, and I’ll fetch them.”

Cynthia sat down miserably. She hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise. Oh, well, as soon as they came, she would just tell them she was sorry, but something unexpected had come up and they couldn’t take them after all.

There were several girls working, typing, and straightening out files. It was rather noisy. She could hear a strangely familiar voice telling someone that a child needed special medical care which the orphanage could not afford.

Just then the children came out laughing. She couldn’t help noticing how pale Brenda was. She must have been the one the man was speaking of.

They crowded eagerly around her. She tried to speak but could not. It was as if some force was holding her mouth shut.

She found herself carrying Brenda, with the boys racing in front to the car. All the way home they talked and laughed and seemed thrilled about everything.

She answered their many questions somehow. They wanted to know if Santa would find them.

When they were inside the house, they stood in silence gazing at the tree of their choice so beautifully lighted and decorated, and at the many presents under it.

“Let’s sing ‘Silent Night.’ Our doctor taught it to us. He is so nice,” Tommy said, jumping up and down.

As they were gathering around the piano, Phil came in. His eyes showed plainly his puzzlement – was Cynthia trying to mock him?

Brenda was the first to reach him. All three of them were talking at once.

Finally when the noise ceased, Phil explained how he had consented to be the orphanage doctor.

Cynthia fought to keep back her tears. She hadn’t wanted the children here because of what Phil would think, and he had been going over there, free of charge, giving them help, even teaching them Christmas carols. How wrong she had been! She knew now what Christmas really should be.

Phil came toward her. “You really have the true Christmas spirit, honey. Not everyone who could afford to do this for three homeless kiddies would.”

Through her tears the tiny diamond gleamed twice as bright, as Phil slipped it on her finger.

James was remembering how twenty years before he and his wife had brought home a bundle from the same orphanage – their most wonderful Christmas gift – with the name of Cynthia.