Christmas Stories And Legends | Page 4

sat
down in an easy chair before the library grate, and yielded herself to the
spell of the quiet hour. The strained, irritated nerves relaxed, and a
strange, sweet peace stole over her. As she gazed dreamily into the fire,
a star seemed to rise out of the glowing coals, and beam at her with a
beautiful soft radiance, and the words of the Evangel came into her
mind: "And when they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding joy;
and when they were come into the house they saw the young child,
with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshipped him; and
when they had opened their treasures they presented unto him gifts,
gold, frankincense and myrrh." She repeated the words over and over to
herself. How simple and restful they were; how direct and genuine and
satisfying was this old-time giving! There it was--Gifts for the
Christ-Child--"They presented unto him gifts, gold, frankincense and
myrrh." She remembered reading somewhere that the gold represented
our earthly possessions, the frankincense typified our service and the
myrrh our suffering for his sake.
As she gazed into the fire, and mused, she fell asleep, and all these

thoughts were woven into the fabric of a dream--and who shall say that
God does not speak to his children still in dreams?
She dreamed that it was the morning of her birthday. She heard cheery
voices in the hall calling out to one another: "This is Marcia's birthday.
Wish you many returns of the day!" There was an excited running to
and fro between the different rooms, and gleeful exclamations--but no
one came near her! She sat up in bed listening, and wondering what it
could mean! Why, mother always came into her room, and folded her
to her heart, and said those precious things that only a mother can say;
and the children always scrambled to see who should be the first to
give sister a birthday kiss. Were they playing some joke on her? She
would be quiet and watch, and so not be taken unawares.
Presently they went trooping happily downstairs into the dining-room,
and she heard father's voice say: "Good morning, children; I wish you
many happy returns of Marcia's birthday."
What did it all mean? Was she going crazy? Or were they just going to
surprise her by some novel way of celebrating her birthday? She arose,
and with trembling fingers dressed herself hastily, and stole softly
down the stairs, and looked into the dining-room. Hush!--father was
asking a blessing. He returned thanks for dear Marcia's birthday, and
asked that it should be a happy day for them all. Beside each plate save
her own, were various packages; and these were opened amid
ejaculations of surprise and pleasure, and sundry hugs and kisses.
After the first burst of happiness had subsided, Marcia braced herself
and entered the dining-room, saying with forced gayety: "Good
morning, dear ones all." They looked up with blank, unanswering faces,
and said: "Good morning, Marcia"--that was all. But Marcia's heart
leaped at the recognition of her presence, for she had begun to fear that
she was dead, and that it was her spirit that was wandering about.
She stooped and kissed her mother, who murmured abstractedly, "Yes,
dear," never once looking up from the presents she was examining.
With a sinking heart she turned away from her mother and went and
stood behind her father's chair, and leaning over whispered in his ear:

"Dear father, have you forgotten that this is my birthday?" He answered
kindly but absent-mindedly: "Why, daughter, am I likely to forget it
with all these tokens around me?"--and he waved his hand toward the
gifts piled around his plate. This was almost more than Marcia could
bear, for father was always specially tender and attentive to her on her
birthday. She always sat on his knee a while; and he told her what a joy
and comfort she was to him, and he always paid her some pretty
compliment that made her girlish heart swell with innocent pride, for
every girl knows that compliments from one's father are a little sweeter
than any others.
In vain she hung around waiting for some clue to this mysterious,
unnatural conduct of the family. They were all absorbed in plans for
spending this birthday--Marcia's birthday, but no reference whatever
was made to what she liked; no one consulted her as to what she
wanted to do, or to have done. The boys were going skating in the
forenoon; the little girls were to invite four of their friends to help serve
the first dinner in the new doll's house, and in the afternoon father
would take them all for an automobile ride into the country to a dear
friend's--all but Marcia, who couldn't bear