Saying, Jesus is come!"

Suddenly it seemed to the distracted mother that her own boy's voice
blended with those others. He too was singing in honor of that Child. Happy
and ever young, he was bidding her rejoice in the day which made all
childhood sacred. And for his sake she had been hating children!

With a sudden revulsion of feeling she turned to see what had become of the
poor mother and her boys. They were not far behind, huddling in the shadow.
The black woman strode quickly up to them. They shrank pitifully at her
approach, and she felt the shame of it. They were afraid of her!

"Here," she said, thrusting the Noah's ark into the hands of the larger
boy. "Take it. It belongs to you."

The child took it timidly. The mother began to protest thanks. Trying to
control the shake in her voice the dark lady spoke again. "Have you
prepared a Christmas for your children?"

The woman shook her head. "I have nothing," she sighed. "A roof over our
heads, that's all."

"Your husband?"

"My man died a month ago."

So other folk had raw sorrows, too. The mourner had forgotten that.

"There is no one expecting you at home?" Again the woman shook her head
dolefully. "Come with me," said the dark lady impulsively. "You shall be my