A Christmas Inspiration Page #2

"A Christmas Inspiration" by Lucy Maud Montgomery is a charming short story that captures the spirit of the holiday season through themes of hope, love, and the magic of Christmas. Set in the nostalgic landscape of early 20th-century Canada, the narrative follows the intertwining lives of its characters as they navigate personal challenges and discover the true meaning of Christmas. Montgomery’s signature lyrical prose and heartfelt storytelling evoke the warmth of community and the joy of giving, making it a delightful read for anyone seeking inspiration during the festive season.

• Short story

								

cane, a bag of oranges, and a brilliant lampshade of rose-coloured
crepe paper to top off with.

"It makes such a lot of show for the money," she explained. "I am
bankrupt, like Jean."

"Well, we've got a lot of pretty things," said Jean in a tone of
satisfaction. "Now we must do them up nicely. Will you wrap them in
tissue paper, girls, and tie them with baby ribbon--here's a box of
it--while I write that letter?"

While the others chatted over their parcels Jean wrote her letter, and
Jean could write delightful letters. She had a decided talent in that
respect, and her correspondents all declared her letters to be things
of beauty and joy forever. She put her best into Miss Allen's
Christmas letter. Since then she has written many bright and clever
things, but I do not believe she ever in her life wrote anything more
genuinely original and delightful than that letter. Besides, it
breathed the very spirit of Christmas, and all the girls declared that
it was splendid.

"You must all sign it now," said Jean, "and I'll put it in one of
those big envelopes; and, Nellie, won't you write her name on it in
fancy letters?"

Which Nellie proceeded to do, and furthermore embellished the envelope
by a border of chubby cherubs, dancing hand in hand around it and a
sketch of No. 16 Chestnut Terrace in the corner in lieu of a stamp.
Not content with this she hunted out a huge sheet of drawing paper and
drew upon it an original pen-and-ink design after her own heart. A
dudish cat--Miss Allen was fond of the No. 16 cat if she could be said
to be fond of anything--was portrayed seated on a rocker arrayed in
smoking jacket and cap with a cigar waved airily aloft in one paw
while the other held out a placard bearing the legend "Merry
Christmas." A second cat in full street costume bowed politely, hat in
paw, and waved a banner inscribed with "Happy New Year," while faintly
suggested kittens gambolled around the border. The girls laughed until
they cried over it and voted it to be the best thing Nellie had yet
done in original work.

All this had taken time and it was past eleven o'clock. Miss Allen had
cried herself to sleep long ago and everybody else in Chestnut Terrace
was abed when five figures cautiously crept down the hall, headed by
Jean with a dim lamp. Outside of Miss Allen's door the procession
halted and the girls silently arranged their gifts on the floor.

"That's done," whispered Jean in a tone of satisfaction as they
tiptoed back. "And now let us go to bed or Mrs. Pickrell, bless her
heart, will be down on us for burning so much midnight oil. Oil has
gone up, you know, girls."

It was in the early morning that Miss Allen opened her door. But early
as it was, another door down the hall was half open too and five rosy
faces were peering cautiously out. The girls had been up for an hour
for fear they would miss the sight and were all in Nellie's room,
which commanded a view of Miss Allen's door.

That lady's face was a study. Amazement, incredulity, wonder, chased
each other over it, succeeded by a glow of pleasure. On the floor
before her was a snug little pyramid of parcels topped by Jean's
letter. On a chair behind it was a bowl of delicious hot-house roses
and Nellie's placard.

Miss Allen looked down the hall but saw nothing, for Jean had slammed
the door just in time. Half an hour later when they were going down to
breakfast Miss Allen came along the hall with outstretched hands to
meet them. She had been crying again, but I think her tears were happy
ones; and she was smiling now. A cluster of Jean's roses were pinned
on her breast.

"Oh, girls, girls," she said, with a little tremble in her voice, "I
can never thank you enough. It was so kind and sweet of you. You don't
know how much good you have done me."

Breakfast was an unusually cheerful affair at No. 16 that morning.
There was no skeleton at the feast and everybody was beaming. Miss
Allen laughed and talked like a girl herself.

"Oh, how surprised I was!" she said. "The roses were like a bit of
summer, and those cats of Nellie's were so funny and delightful. And
your letter too, Jean! I cried and laughed over it. I shall read it
every day for a year."

After breakfast everyone went to Christmas service. The girls went
uptown to the church they attended. The city was very beautiful in the
morning sunshine. There had been a white frost in the night and the
tree-lined avenues and public squares seemed like glimpses of
fairyland.

"How lovely the world is," said Jean.

"This is really the very happiest Christmas morning I have ever
known," declared Nellie. "I never felt so really Christmassy in my
inmost soul before."

"I suppose," said Beth thoughtfully, "that it is because we have
discovered for ourselves the old truth that it is more blessed to give
than to receive. I've always known it, in a way, but I never realized
it before."

"Blessing on Jean's Christmas inspiration," said Nellie. "But, girls,
let us try to make it an all-the-year-round inspiration, I say. We can
bring a little of our own sunshine into Miss Allen's life as long as
we live with her."

"Amen to that!" said Jean heartily. "Oh, listen, girls--the Christmas
chimes!"

And over all the beautiful city was wafted the grand old message of
peace on earth and good will to all the world.
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