by Jean Little
“We’ll think about it, Fiona,” Father said, looking serious and pleased at the same time.
I am very hopeful. Good night.
Tuesday, December 21, 1920
Dear Ben,
Our whole house smells like a forest!
The minute Father finished asking the grace at supper, Aunt told us that she had found a family that needed our help. “I had a feeling you would,” Father said, beaming at her. Aunt told us that a woman was at the library this morning when she was taking back our books. The woman had come in to get warm and she was looking so despairing that Aunt struck up a conversation with her. Her sister’s family has nothing. The woman herself said she could not manage to help out, because she has four children of her own and her husband lost his leg in the War. Anyway, Aunt said she knew right away that here was our chance, so she kept talking until she learned where the family lived, and all the children’s names and ages. She moved to another table and scribbled them down to be sure.
Suddenly Theo said, “There are lots of presents piling up in the living room. Maybe we could share. I would be willing to give my new striped pyjamas.”
“How do you know you have new pyjamas in there?” Aunt demanded, giving him her fierce look. He smiled like an angel and said the corner ripped when he was moving the parcel and he couldn’t help but see.
Everyone burst out laughing, even you, Ben.
Then Aunt got her scribbled list out of her handbag and we began to fetch things we had hidden away. I am sorry, Ben, but I put your cloth ball into the box. Not your alphabet blocks though.
Father’s Fifth-Form English class had taken up a collection and given him money for a Christmas turkey, so he donated that. We already had one turkey from Grandma and Grandy’s farm. We will pack it all tomorrow and leave it on the family’s doorstep on December 23 so the mother can stop worrying. They only live a few blocks away. Father put in a pair of socks Grandmother had knitted for him, and a pipe and tobacco. Then Aunt contributed a nightgown she had bought for herself to wear on Christmas. It was so pretty with lace at the neck and hem. Father took a good look at it and I’ll bet he gets her one to take its place.
The oldest girl, Belinda, is twelve, so I gave her one of my precious books, Eight Cousins. I loved it when I was that age. I still love it, as a matter of fact.
Fanny says we should make the family some fudge. I felt my smile exactly matching hers. It was marvellous. She felt it too — I could see.
Wednesday, December 22, 1920
Dear Ben,
You took a step! And I was there to see you do it! You let go of the playpen railing and took a step to cut the corner and then you grabbed on with both fists to the other railing. You looked astonished at what you had just done. Then you sat down. I am watching to see you do it again.
You did!
When I ran to tell everyone, guess what? I caught Fanny reading Eight Cousins with MY glasses on. I had left them on the table because they were pinching my nose. I could not believe that my sister, the one with the eagle eyes, was using my spectacles for reading.
I just stood staring. Then Aunt came in and stood beside me, both of us gazing at Fanny in amazement. “How would you like spectacles for Christmas, Francesca?” Aunt said softly.
Fanny went red as fire and dropped the book.
I had just remembered to tell about your first step when you let out a yell at being left alone so long, so I told them and they were most impressed. Then you did it again, which helped.
After supper
The Christmas boxes are all packed. That family will be so surprised to find their names on the parcels. Father made a card that read With love and good wishes for a Merry Christmas from S. Claus.
Theo stared at the card. Then he said, “You write just like Santa Claus.” Father grinned and said he did his best.
Theo glared at him and shouted, “I’m still hanging up my stocking.”
“Me too,” said Father and gave him a giant hug.
Tomorrow night we are going to take the boxes over after dark and leave them on that family’s porch. Jo and Aunt will stay home with you, Ben, but the rest of us all want to go.
Thursday, December 23, 1920
Bedtime
Dear Ben,
We did it! It was incredibly exciting. There were two big boxes, one filled with food and one with presents. There was some tinsel too and Father slid in an envelope. I think it had some extra money in it for the family to spend any way they like. He put his finger to his lips so I did not ask.
We towed the boxes on our toboggan and stopped a couple of houses up the street. We hid behind a big clump of evergreens. Some places had wreaths on the door but theirs didn’t. It was late and all the windows were dark.
Then Father took one of the boxes and Fan and I carried the other between us and Theo hopped and danced along, hoping we would drop something that he would have to rescue. We did. A box of popping corn. Theo scooped it up in a flash. We were so quiet, even though I had a terrible time not giggling. We put the boxes on their porch and skedaddled back to the toboggan. Father stayed behind long enough to knock on the door and then he ran after us. I have never seen him run so fast. We waited until a light went on and then we scurried away before they could come out. I wish we could have waited a couple of minutes more, just to see their faces.
Tomorrow night we will hang up our stockings, including yours, little Ben, and it will be lovely, but I don’t think anything that happens from now on will be able to measure up to tonight.
Christmas Eve
December 24, 1920
Dear Ben,
Today we have all been busy getting the last-minute things ready and wrapping little secret treats to slide into stockings. You, the SMALLEST person, have the BIGGEST stocking because you have such a pile of gifts. It’s big enough for a giant. Theo put out apples and carrots for the reindeer. Jo stayed at the hospital.
Aunt says we must go to bed. And I want to. It will make Christmas morning come faster. But it is hard to settle down. That is why I am writing to you.
Merry Christmas Eve, Benjamin.
Christmas Day
Saturday, December 25, 1920
Dear Ben,
Joy to the world! The Lord is come.
What a mixed-up, marvellous day! To think I was afraid it would be horrible. Theo woke us all up before it was light outside. He came for me and Fanny first and then we fetched you out of your crib. You were surprised to see us, but when we began to sing “Away in a Manger” you grinned and put up your arms to be lifted out. Then we got Aunt and Father and we were heading for the stairs when a sleepy voice called, “Wait for me, you lot!” Jo had come home in the night to be here to open her stocking. Carrie was with her and Jo had managed to hang up a stocking for her, which was perfect.
We all got silly things and nice things. I got a new book. I am always worried that Father and Aunt will forget I need a Christmas book — but they never have yet. It is T. Tembarom by Frances Hodgson Burnett. It is a grown-up love story! I have read almost half.
Right after we had our Christmas breakfast, Theo went out “to play in the snow.” That was what he said. And then, Ben, you will never guess what he did. He went over to the street where we took the Christmas boxes and started playing with the children there, and when he came home, he was jumping up and down with glee. He knew the whole story of how the family found the boxes. The mother even sent Belinda running over to tell her sister — the woman Aunt talked to — and the whole bunch of them got together and had a wonderful feast.
“That boy even liked the pyjamas,” Theo told Aunt.
“They were the best pyjamas in the store,” Aunt said.
Theo swore he did not even hint that he knew where the things had come from. He was so proud of himself for being such a detective.
I thought he was great until he pulled out his new play sword and started running around giving us all “the mark of Zorro.” It is irritating. That sword
does not cut but it sure bruises.
Connie came over at around two. She wanted Fan to come out for a walk. I held my breath, Ben, but Fan was as smooth as a queen. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but we have company and Christmas is a family day. I’m busy tomorrow too. It’s Ben’s birthday and Margery James has invited me to go with her church group on a sleigh ride. I hope you have a merry Christmas.” Then, while Connie was kind of hissing through her teeth, Fan quietly closed the door.
We read Dickens’s Christmas Carol tonight. We started before supper so Theo would be able to stay up for it. But he fell asleep on the rug in front of the fireplace, leaning up against Hamlet.
Good night, Ben. You are almost a year old. This book will be finished tomorrow. I am going to miss writing to you.
But I got a lovely diary book, a fat one with big creamy pages, from Aunt for Christmas. Your clever mother always knows what I will be wanting.
Ben’s First Birthday
Boxing Day, December 26, 1920
Dearest Ben,
You slept in! We were all waiting for you to wake us up early as usual and you didn’t. Finally Theo began making a rumpus. He sang “Happy Birthday!” at the top of his voice and rushed about, stomping his feet, and at last you opened your eyes. And I was watching from the door and you saw me and you said, you actually said, “Fee.” Then you said, “Fifi.” But you can call me “Fifi” if you like, my sweet Ben.
Fan tried to get you to say “Fan,” but you didn’t. You didn’t say “Fifi” again either, but never mind. I know you will.
You love your presents. And you walked another step before you plunked down on your bottom. Such a clever child.
It was a lovely day from start to finish. Not one bit tangled. No frayed bits or ugly knots. I even told Fanny how jealous I had felt of Con when I began this book for you, and she gave me a tight hug.
People came to your birthday party, Ben. It seems strange to celebrate Jesus’s birthday one day and yours the next. It is also strange to know that we will still be singing to the Little Lord Jesus when you are blowing out five candles, or ten, and you are not our “little lord Ben” any longer.
But you will have this Birthday Book to remind you of how we felt when you were almost one and I wrote this for you and learned to love you with all my heart.
Good night, little lord Ben. Goodbye, Ben’s Book.
Love,
Fifi
About the Author
Jean Little is one of Canada’s most beloved and distinguished authors. She has written fifty books, which have been translated into twenty languages. Among them are some of Canada’s best-loved works for children, such as Mama’s Going to Buy You a Mockingbird, Mine for Keeps and From Anna. Jean began writing as a child and has never stopped, despite the challenge of her blindness. She has received numerous national and international awards and has been made a member of the Order of Canada for her outstanding contribution to Canadian children’s literature.
Jean’s first book for the Dear Canada series, Orphan at My Door, won the CLA Book of the Year for Children Award. Her second, Brothers Far from Home, is a CLA Honour Book. Her most recent Dear Canada, Exiles from the War, has been shortlisted for the Geoffrey Bilson Award for Historical Fiction for Young People. Dancing Through the Snow was shortlisted for many awards and has been a great international success.
Jean lives in Guelph, Ontario, with her family and her guide dog, Honey.
While the events described and some of the characters in this book may be based on actual historical events and real people, Fiona Macgregor is a fictional character created by the author, and this story is a work of fiction.
“Untangling Christmas” copyright © 2009 by Jean Little.
Interior illustration by Colin Mayne, copyright © 2009 by Scholastic Canada Ltd.
Originally published in Dear Canada, A Christmas to Remember: Tales of Comfort and Joy.
Cover image: © iStockphoto.com/moniaphoto
Published by Scholastic Canada Ltd.
SCHOLASTIC and DEAR CANADA and logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
All rights reserved under International and Pan–American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read this e-book on-screen. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Scholastic Canada Ltd., 604 King Street West, Toronto, Ontario M5V 1E1, Canada.
ISBN: 978-1-4431-2417-1
First eBook edition: December 2012
Also Available
To read more great Christmas stories and meet other Dear Canada heroines check out A Christmas to Remember: Tales of Comfort and Joy and A Season for Miracles: Twelve Tales of Christmas.
If you liked Fiona Macgregor’s Christmas story, look for her diary, If I Die Before I Wake, to read more about her.
Books in the Dear Canada Series
Alone in an Untamed Land, The Filles du Roi Diary of Hélène St. Onge by Maxine Trottier
Banished from Our Home, The Acadian Diary of Angélique Richard by Sharon Stewart
Blood Upon Our Land, The North West Resistance Diary of Josephine Bouvier by Maxine Trottier
Brothers Far from Home, The World War I Diary of Eliza Bates by Jean Little
A Christmas to Remember, Tales of Comfort and Joy
Days of Toil and Tears, The Child Labour Diary of Flora Rutherford by Sarah Ellis
The Death of My Country, The Plains of Abraham Diary of Geneviève Aubuchon by Maxine Trottier
A Desperate Road to Freedom, The Underground Railroad Diary of Julia May Jackson by Karleen Bradford
Exiles from the War, The War Guests Diary of Charlotte Mary Twiss by Jean Little
Footsteps in the Snow, The Red River Diary of Isobel Scott by Carol Matas
Hoping for Home, Stories of Arrival
If I Die Before I Wake, The Flu Epidemic Diary of Fiona Macgregor by Jean Little
No Safe Harbour, The Halifax Explosion Diary of Charlotte Blackburn by Julie Lawson
Not a Nickel to Spare, The Great Depression Diary of Sally Cohen by Perry Nodelman
An Ocean Apart, The Gold Mountain Diary of Chin Mei-ling by Gillian Chan
Orphan at My Door, The Home Child Diary of Victoria Cope by Jean Little
A Prairie as Wide as the Sea, The Immigrant Diary of Ivy Weatherall by Sarah Ellis
Prisoners in the Promised Land, The Ukrainian Internment Diary of Anya Soloniuk by Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch
A Rebel’s Daughter, The 1837 Rebellion Diary of Arabella Stevenson by Janet Lunn
A Ribbon of Shining Steel, The Railway Diary of Kate Cameron by Julie Lawson
A Sea of Sorrows, The Typhus Epidemic Diary of Johanna Leary by Norah McClintock
A Season for Miracles, Twelve Tales of Christmas
That Fatal Night, The Titanic Diary of Dorothy Wilton by Sarah Ellis
To Stand On My Own, The Polio Epidemic Diary of Noreen Robertson by Barbara Haworth-Attard
Torn Apart, The Internment Diary of Mary Kobayashi by Susan Aihoshi
A Trail of Broken Dreams, The Gold Rush Diary of Harriet Palmer by Barbara Haworth-Attard
Turned Away, The World War II Diary of Devorah Bernstein by Carol Matas
Where the River Takes Me, The Hudson’s Bay Company Diary of Jenna Sinclair by Julie Lawson
Whispers of War, The War of 1812 Diary of Susanna Merritt by Kit Pearson
Winter of Peril, The Newfoundland Diary of Sophie Loveridge by Jan Andrews
With Nothing But Our Courage, The Loyalist Diary of Mary MacDonald by Karleen Bradford
Go to www.scholastic.ca/dearcanada for information on the Dear Canada Series — see inside the books, read an exce
rpt or a review, post a review, and more.
