From the Improvement Era, December 1927 –

The Spirit of Love

By D.C. Retsloff

Ten-year-old Mary Eleanor was happy. Christmas was just twenty days away. There were so many wonderful things to do, so many secrets to share with mother, grandmother and Aunt Alice.

Mother was helping her make needle cases for grandmother and Aunt Alice. Every half hour was delightful for her as she sat in mother’s room and they sewed together. What fun it was, putting the work away, if they heard grandmother or Aunt Alice calling from the flat above where they lived.

Two afternoons a week Mary Eleanor went up to grandmother’s flat and worked on a luncheon set for mother. The yard square cloth of white crepe was blanket-stitched on each side with blue floss, and there were blue forget-me-nots in two of the corners. Making the pongee silk handkerchief for Uncle Harvey was harder than the work on the luncheon cloth. Sometimes Mary Eleanor was almost discouraged over the handkerchief, but Aunt Alice was always close beside to cheer her up.

She had saved her pennies for almost a year, and she had four dollars to spend in the shops. Aunt Alice was so nice to go shopping with, she was interested in books, in games, she thought it was lots of fun to make and stuff the stamped animals and dolls that the fancy work counters displayed, and the cutters to make animal cookies pleased her almost as much as they did Mary Eleanor.

Three days before Christmas father brought home the grandest tree. It was straight and tall and fitted perfectly in the alcove between the parlor fireplace and the book case.

The happiest hour of all was when Aunt Mary arrived from Boston, in time to help trim the tree. It took two afternoons, and no one was allowed in the parlor except Aunt Mary and Mary Eleanor.

“My, what a lot of things Santa Claus is bringing this year,” said Aunt Mary as she opened the door and took several parcels from the hands of Aunt Alice.

“Yes,” replied Mary Eleanor, nodding her yellowish head. “When I was a little girl I thought that Santa Claus was a real man, that he lived up at the North Pole and drove reindeer. Now I know that father, mother, you, I, each one is a Santa Claus to someone we love. If we love people we want to give them things.”

“Of course, we do,” Aunt Mary agreed, as she stood a fat, bulky parcel up beside the trunk of the tree. “You know God so loved the world that he gave to it the Baby Jesus, years and years ago in the little town of Bethlehem. The wise men carried gifts to the Baby to make him happy and comfortable. During all the years since, people have been wanting to make children happy so they give them presents. Sometimes they do not want the children to know where the things come from, so they say they are from Santa Claus; I think the spirit of Christmas is a wonderful thing.”

“Mother says the spirit of Christmas means love,” Mary Eleanor said.

“Yes, it does, and the greatest love one person can express for another is the giving of something that one values very highly. You see God gave his Only Begotten Son.”

Mary Eleanor wrinkled her forehead. “It means lots of love when we give something we want ourselves, don’t it?”

“Yes, I think it does,” Aunt Mary replied.

On Christmas eve after supper was over, the folding doors into the parlor were opened; the electric button pushed and the stately tree flashed forth a thing of beauty, with its dozens of red and green electric fights.

The “ah’s” and “oh’s” were many, as uncles, aunts, father, mother and grandmother took the seats Mary Eleanor had arranged for them.

Uncle Harvey had been selected to help unload the tree. As he read off the names, he handed the parcels to Mary Eleanor and she took them to their respective owners.

“Why, is this for me?” Father asked as he opened a box of cross-word puzzles.

Mary Eleanor laughed. “Yes, Daddy, you see when you are not using it. I can loan it to little cripple Jim Brown. He has had so much fun with my box of sliced animals.”

“A good idea,” father nodded soberly.

“Look at my book!” Grandmother held up a gay, red volume entitled The Girls at Sunnyside Farm.

“It got it on purpose for you to read to Kitty Sanders, Grandma,” Mary Eleanor explained. “You know you’ve read all my books to her and I know she’s never heard this one. The cover feels good, too; I almost believe her fingers can tell her the color of it.”

“I’m sure we will enjoy it together,” Grandmother said softly, as she wiped her glasses.

Aunt Mary’s parcel came next. Mary Eleanor stood waiting with a look of breathless expectancy on her round face.

“Animal cookie cutters!” Aunt Mary exclaimed. “How cute1″

Mary Eleanor clapped her hands. “That’s just what Aunt Alice said when we found them in the ten-cent store. I’m so glad you like them, Aunt Mary. Next summer when I come to visit you, we will make animal cookies for the laundress’ little lame boy.”

“That’s a splendid idea,” Aunt Mary re-wrapped the cutters and a queer little smile deepened the dimple in her plump cheeks.

Mary Eleanor’s gift to Aunt Alice was a set of cloth dolls known as “The Jones Family.” They were all ready to cut, sew and stuff with cotton.

“I knew you’d love to have them,” Mary Eleanor smiled happily, “because, Aunt Alice, you see they will be so nice for the Hafferty twins to play with while their mother sweeps and dusts for you.”

Mary Eleanor looked around. Her father was laughing, but of course he had found something funny in his box of cross-word puzzles.

After she had gone to bed the grown-ups lingered in the festive room discussing the events of the evening.

“What queer things she gave us,” said father.

“I’m terribly disappointed in her,” said mother. “A child of ten should have some idea of selecting suitable gifts.”

Aunt Mary turned toward them. There was a misty shine in her blue eyes. “Listen,” she began. “We all showered the child with expensive gifts. Pearl beads, a gold chain, a set ring, a silk dress, a vanity case, a fur coat. Not one of us gave her anything she can share with another. She is the only one among us who has truly displayed the spirit of Christmas. She gave us things that her own little heart told her would help us make others happy, and that truly is the spirit of Christmas.”