The Twenty-four Days Before Christmas Read Online Free Page B

be is by the five little pines at the edge of the lawn, and by the birches across the road. The outdoor Christmas tree was laden with snow, and the lights shone through and dropped small pools of color
on the white ground. The great flakes of snow were still falling as heavily as ever, soft and starry against the darkness.
    â€œI guess Daddy’ll have to spend the night at the hospital,” John said.
    Mother came to the window and looked over our heads. “No car can possibly get up that road.”
    Suzy asked, “What’re we going to have for dinner?”
    Mother turned from the window. “I think I’ll just take hamburger out of the refrigerator …” I thought she looked worried.
    I stayed by the window.—Please let Daddy get home. Please let Daddy get home.
    But I knew Mother was right, and a car couldn’t possibly make it up the road, even with new snow tires and chains.
    â€”Please, God, I’m not bargaining, I’m not bribing or anything, I’m just asking, Please let Daddy get home. If I knew how to offer my whole self I would, but I don’t know how, so please let Daddy get home, please let …

    Then, just as the words began to jumble themselves up in my mind, I saw something in the wide expanse of snow, somewhere near where the curve of the road ought to be. A light. “Mother! John! Suzy!” They all came running to the window.
    â€œIt’s a flashlight,” John said.
    â€œSnowshoes!” Mother cried. “John, run to the garage and see if Daddy took his snowshoes!”
    John hurried to the kitchen door and in a minute came back, grinning happily. “They’re gone.”
    The light came closer and closer and soon we could see Daddy, his head and shoulders covered with snow. His snowshoes moved steadily and regularly over the white ground. We ran tumbling out to the garage and flung our arms around him, and the dogs jumped up on him and barked in greeting.
    â€œWhoa!” he said. “Let me get my snowshoes off!” He handed the snowshoes to John, who hung them up. Then he stamped his feet and shook, and snow tumbled off him. The dogs dashed out into the snow, came whirling back into the garage, and shook off even
more snow. “Come along,” Daddy said. “Let’s get in out of the cold.”
    When we got indoors Daddy kissed Mother. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to get home.”
    Daddy said, “You didn’t think I’d leave you now, did you?”
    And Mother said, “I’ve been having contractions off and on all day. Oh, I am so glad you’re home!”

    Daddy put another log on the fire. Outdoors the snow was still falling. Indoors it was warm and cozy. The star lit up the little stable, and Daddy went to the white cardboard box and took out the tiny wax figure of the baby. “I think we can put him in the manger now.”
    Mother said, “We might as well have the reading now, too, because this is all the Christmas Eve service we’re going to get.”

    John went into the living room and turned on the Christmas tree lights so that there was the beauty of the Christmas tree indoors and the Christmas tree outdoors, and Daddy sat by the fire and read us the Christmas story. I looked at the angel on top of the indoor Christmas tree and I felt peaceful and happy.
    When we had finished dinner and were nearly through with the dishes, Mother gave a funny little gasp and said to Daddy, “How are you going to get me to the hospital?”
    Daddy laughed. “Upstairs is as far as I’m going to get you tonight.” He looked at us. “Children, I’m going to ask you to finish the dishes and clean up the kitchen.” Suddenly he sounded like a doctor, not just Daddy. “John, put on a full kettle to boil. Blizzards don’t ask anybody when they should come, and neither do babies.”
    He put his