Adventures in Friendship by David Grayson
page 13 of 131 (09%)
page 13 of 131 (09%)
|
II
A DAY OF PLEASANT BREAD They have all gone now, and the house is very still. For the first time this evening I can hear the familiar sound of the December wind blustering about the house, complaining at closed doorways, asking questions at the shutters; but here in my room, under the green reading lamp, it is warm and still. Although Harriet has closed the doors, covered the coals in the fireplace, and said good-night, the atmosphere still seems to tingle with the electricity of genial humanity. The parting voice of the Scotch Preacher still booms in my ears: "This," said he, as he was going out of our door, wrapped like an Arctic highlander in cloaks and tippets, "has been a day of pleasant bread." One of the very pleasantest I can remember! I sometimes think we expect too much of Christmas Day. We try to crowd into it the long arrears of kindliness and humanity of the whole year. As for me, I like to take my Christmas a little at a time, all through the year. And thus I drift along into the holidays--let them overtake me unexpectedly--waking up some fine morning and suddenly saying to myself: "Why, this is Christmas Day!" How the discovery makes one bound out of his bed! What a new sense of life and adventure it imparts! Almost anything may happen on a day like |
|