From the Children’s Friend, December 1934 –
The Best Christmas Gift
By Eleanor B. Thomas
It was Christmas Eve, but it might as well have been any other eve as far as Catherine Martin was concerned. A bad cough that lingered after an attack of influenza had brought her south to the desert ranch of her mother’s brother to convalesce. The dry, bracing desert air and sunshine were doing wonders for her, but tonight she was homesick. She longed for the happy times that the holidays brought to her Canadian home.
She stood gazing out over the sandy desert with its scrubby growth of greasewood and cacti and thought of the snowy hills and plains, frozen streams and lakes that meant jolly sleigh rides and hours of swift flying on gleaming skates.
Her Uncle Dan coming around the corner of the house was startled to see her burst into sobs and throw herself down on the steps in a huddled, grief-stricken heap.
“Why, honey, whatever is the matter?” he asked, putting his arm about the weeping girl and patting her in clumsy sympathy.
“O, it’s Christmas, and I want to go home,” came Catherine’s muffled answer.
“You beginning to think we don’t have any Christmas down here on the desert?” he asked.
Catherine nodded her head emphatically. “Can’t see a sign of Christmas nor even find a smell of one. Back home everything smells Christmasy. Mother always makes pies and puddings and fixes dressing for the turkey with things that smell so good. Dad puts up the Christmas tree and the holly wreaths, and they smell good. Wilma and Ted are popping corn and making candy and oh,” she wailed, “I just can’t stand not even having as much as a smell of Christmas.”
“Well,” drawled her Uncle Dan, his eyes twinkling, “your Aunt Emma is a right good cook and I wouldn’t be surprised if she couldn’t stir some sort of dinner that would smell like Christmas if that is all you want Santa Claus to bring you.”
“Now you’re making fun of me,” Catherine gulped, dabbing at her tears.
“Nary a bit of fun, honey, I know just how you feel.”
Then he asked, “Been down to the bunk house lately?”
“Not since day before yesterday,” Catherine answered.
“Something going on down there,” her Uncle whispered. “Got an idea the boys have been helping Santa fix things up a bit for Christmas. Wouldn’t be a surprise to me to find something down there a wee bit more substantial than just a Christmas smell.”
Catherine all excited was on her feet in a moment, “Oh, do let’s go see what they’re doing,” and started on a run down the steps, but her Uncle grabbed her arm.
“Not so fast, young lady. You sit here and talk to me till they call us. We mustn’t spoil their plans.”
As they sat talking the soft Arizona night deepened about them and one glorious star flung its light in the sky. In the far distance twinkled the lights of a little town.
Suddenly from the bunk house came the sound of a radio. Somewhere a group of carolers were singing :
“O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie.”
“Uncle Dan,” Catherine murmured, “doesn’t all this give you a picture of that little town of Bethlehem?” She made a gesture that included the star, the twinkling lights and the silent desert.
“You’re right, honey, it does,” replied her uncle, “and see yonder those moving shadows, they look like the shepherds leaving their flocks to follow the star to the manger in the Inn.”
“I see them,” said Catherine, “and over there come the three wise men bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.”
“I think that the Babe of Bethlehem liked best the simple gifts that the shepherds brought,” said her uncle. “For surely they would not go empty handed after hearing the message of the angel.”
“Be not afraid,” the angel told the shepherds, “for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people, for there is born to you this day a Saviour which is Christ the Lord. And this is a sign unto you : ye shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.”
“How they must have loved the babe of Bethlehem,” said Catherine, wistfully. “I wish I might have been there to bring Him a gift.”
“It’s not too late to do that,” said her uncle. “Try making someone else happy, and that will be a gift He will be glad to accept. After He grew to manhood He told the people: “When as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me.'”
Catherine stared at him. “Would that really be the same?” she asked. Her uncle nodded. “I wonder what I could do right today that would make someone happy. Do you know , Uncle Dan?”
“Right today, honey,” he answered, “the best thing I know of would be to see you happy and contented, doing all you can to get well and strong, so that in the spring you can go back home with roses blooming in your cheeks. That would be real happiness for all of us.”
“I’ll try,” said Catherine, with a shaky smile, “and may this be a merry Christmas for everyone one.”