W HEN Bobby and Mother and Father came to live in the little brown house by the side of the Big Road, it was springtime. The birds were beginning to sing and the trees to bud and bloom; and now it was almost Christmas!
One day when the ox-wagon man went to town he had a wagon load of holly and mistletoe and little green Christmas trees.
Father bought a Christmas tree from him—such a tiny
tree that it could stand in a
Bobby and Mother made the trimmings for it: a big silver star for the very top, and a tiny star for the tip of each branch. They strung pop corn to wreathe in the green, and they put bright red cranberries here and there in their chains.
But the most important part of the tree were the candles that Father went to the city to buy. Some were green and some were white and some were as red as the cranberries.
The candles were lighted on Christmas Eve. Father lighted the green ones, and Mother the white, and Bobby lighted the red ones because he liked those best.
When every candle was burning, and the little tree stood all shining and bright in the window, Father said:
"Let us sing our Christmas song."
"Oh, yes, let's," said Bobby.
So Father and Mother and Bobby sang:
"Shine little candles,
Shine stars above,
Praising the Christ Child
God's gift of Love.
"Poor was the stable
Where He was born;
Cows watched His sleeping,
That wondrous morn.
"No pillow had He,
No bed but hay;
Yet heaven's glory
Shone where He lay.
"Shine, little candles!
Shine, stars above!
Praising the Christ Child,
God's gift of love."
The little candles sparkled and shone like tiny twinkling stars.
"Don't you suppose the people on the Big Road will see our tree as they go by?" asked Bobby.