balls, and c o l o r e d lights. Tied to its branches, and piled b en ea th it, were many gifts of various shapes and sizes, gay with holiday ribbon. Dressed in their Sunday clothes, all ready for church, the children stood in front o f the tree, with sparkling eyes. “ Look at a ll th e p r e s en ts , K ip !” breathed Lollie. “ I counted nineteen,” said Kippy, “ see- that one with the funny shape? That’s my old gun . . . won’t Bobby like it?* And there’s my top . . . did I ever do a good job shining it up !” he boasted. Lollie pointed to a daintily - wrapped box, “ That’s my very first doll: it’s fo r the Anderson baby. Mamma made the cutest pink dress for it. This is my old paint box; I covered it with pretty wall paper.”
Another Lollie and Kippy Story JBpJBettpJSruecIjert you and Mamma . . . it wasn’t very much.” Kippy knew the solution to every prob lem. “ Let’s go ask Mamma,” he said getting to his feet. Their mother was preparing vege tables for soup, but she smiled as her brown - eyed offspring explained their problem. Her face lighted up with joy at the realization of their unselfishness. Slowly she diced some carrots before she spoke. “ Of course, we can have a different kind o f Christmas this year, my dears, if you want to. We can ask some others in to share with us. I know the very family, that Mrs. Anderson down on Elm Street and her five children.” “ The ones who haven’t any Daddy either?” asked Lollie, and “ The poor lady who works in your office?” inquired Kippy. “ Yes, that’s the family. We’ll give all of them presents and t ake them to church with us and then feed them a good meal. I know Mrs. Anderson is not planning any Christmas b e cau se they can’t afford it.” The children looked worried. “ But we h a v e n ’ t any money, either, Mamma. What can we do?” Mamma emp t i ed the bowl o f vege tables into the soup kettle, turned on the gas, and, putting her arms about her son and daughter, walked with them into the living room. “ With God’s help, we’ll work it out some way,” she prom ised, “ Let’s pray, and then we’ll have a family conference.” C HRISTMAS D A Y was col d and crisp; the sun shone bright on the ha rd -pa ck ed snow. “ The Crackerbox” was shining clean. The air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of roasting turkey and baking pies. The table in the kitchen had been extended to its full length, and set not for the usual three, but for nine! In one corner o f the living room stood a modest Christmas tree, re splendent in its oft - used, tinsel, glass
O UTSIDE, it was cold, and the snow was falling fast, but inside the lit tle house, “ The Crackerbox,” it was warm and cozy. Yellow-haired Lollie pressed her face hard against the win- dowpane to get a better view of the whirling flakes. Her chubby seven-year-, old brother, Kippy, lay on the rug in front o f the fireplace. . Lollie sighed with deep content. “No school! and Christmas in just three more days!” Kippy stretched lazily, “ Boy, oh, boy, I wonder what we’ll get this year?” “ What we told Mamma we wanted that we thought she could afford,” an swered Lollie, with nine - year - old wis dom. “ And a tree . . . opening our presents Christmas morning . . . going to church and then a swell dinner,” reminisced Kippy happily. Lollie turned from the window and regarded her brother thoughtfully. “ You know, Kip, I ’ve been thinking.” Kippy knew from experience what that meant, and his eyes kindled with interest. “ Made up another game?” he asked, sitting up hastily. “ No, not that, Kip. It’s about Christ mas. We always do the same thing . . . why can’t we have a different kind of Christmas this year?” “ Why, I think it’s keen the way it is!” protested her brother, “ What’s w r o n g with it? What else could we do?” Lollie frowned. “ I don’t know, but we ought to do something for somebody else. My Sunday school teacher said last week that Christmas was the time to think of others . . . Jesus was thinking o f us when He came to earth the first Christ mas day.” “ Well,” said Kippy stoutly, “ We did think about Mamma . . . I hid her pres ent in my room yesterday.” “ Yes, I know, Kip,” said Lollie, im patiently and ungrammatically, “ B u t Mamma’s us . . . Couldn’t we help some poor children or something?” Kippy looked troubled. “ But I haven’t any money left. Have you?” “ No,” said Lollie, biting her lip, “ I spent it all on D E C EMB E R , 1 9 4 7
Their eyes sparkled as they gazed a t the tree. “ Oh, look!” Kippy shouted, “ There’s the pencil box fo r Mary; I can tell by the paper. And I mended that old airplane myself!” “ And those big p a c k a g e s a r e the clothes we wore when we were little. Oh, isn’t it fun, Kip? Wasn’t it wonderful the way Mamma showed us how to fix up our old things for the Anderson chil dren? She even made some brand-new things for them, too.” Lollie was dancing up and down in excitement. “ And we are going to take them all to church with us!” “ Yeah, I guess that is the best part o f it,” Kippy replied, “ but I think that turkey her boss gave Mamma is pretty swell too; she says there is plenty to eat for everybody.” “ God helped us to help somebody else,” said Lollie, confidently, “ this will be our very best Christmas.” Kippy grinned. “ Anyway, it’s going to be the different kind of Christmas you wanted.” “ I think it is the kind that Jesus want ed us to have,” Lollie answered soberly, as the doorbell rang loudly, announcing the arrival of the Christmas guests.
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