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Show mru rf. ?-rt--ffnjJTr1J:Jir '"Tv-Tf H J By BERTHA MAE IN BODY Young Dr. Janet Rhodes pulled the brown suede hat closer over her eyes. She couldn't look up to see the exchange bf Santa Claus glances between beaming mothers and little boys. Once was it but one Christmas ago? a little hand had held tightly to hers. She was jostled by the merry rush. Children with bundles, mothers moth-ers and fathers and little boys! He, too, had carried packages that seemed too large for him, last Christmas Eve. "Mumsie. what's in this one?" he had asked, excitedly. ex-citedly. "It's so-o-o fat!" So clearly clear-ly now his question came to her, that she answered half aloud, "Oh, Billy, you Just wait until morning!" morn-ing!" A dry sob, catching at her throat, seemed to steady her. She must pull herself out of it. At six-thirty six-thirty her "Children's Hour" must be on the air. "Fairy Godmother," the children had named her. Thousands of little figures, crowding crowd-ing close to the loud speaker, listened lis-tened breathlessly. "Little soldiers," sol-diers," she called these little pain-weary pain-weary bodies. The Fairy Godmother shut her eyes. In imagination, her arms held her own little crippled soldier, who fought so bravely against Infantile paralysis. But promises of Santa Claus must go out to them. Un-consciously Un-consciously she ended with the words: "But you Just wait until morning!" Unrecognized by her, it was bitterness bit-terness that kept her from reading the scrawled, childish messages that came to her. Tonight the basket bas-ket seemed to mock her. A tipsy little envelope, sliding from the top, seemed to block her way out. She stared at it, stooped, picked it up. It clung to her hand, plead-Ing. plead-Ing. From it she drew a soiled card and deciphered the words: "Dere fairy godmother, there is bugles with horses on them ain't there. Nick in the bed next to mine sez no, won't you pleeze tell Santa to bring me one. My leg's gettin better. Merrie Crismus Jimmy Dean, children's hospituL" Janet pushed through the crowds. Smiling eyes looked directly into other smiling eyes. She was to buy tiif fM Janet Pushed Through the Crowd: a bugle with a horse on It! Two hours she searched, fruitlessly. iThcn, like a flash it came to her. She would have a small horse sol-. sol-. dercd to the bugle. Over-ruling the : salesman's objections that there wasn't time, she emerged trlum-1 trlum-1 phant with the coveted gift Again the words: "Mumsie, what's In tills ! one? It's so-o-o fat!" j Breathlessly she entered the ; brightly lighted room of Children's Hospital, where the annual Christmas Christ-mas party was almost over. She slipped the package behind the tree j and sank into a chair. Her eyes I drifted across the room to Jimmy : Dean. Even If he hod not held a tiny bugle, she would have known , him by the bravery behind the dis-! dis-! appointed eyes. And when one Is an orphan, even fairy godmothers sometimes fall you. Santa was now taking up the package, saying, "This goes to Jim-1 Jim-1 my Dean." Doctor Janet watched the transformation trans-formation on Jimmy's face and eyes. It was like the look, like the liijht in her arms tightened, but I the child was gone. Bewildered, I frightened, fascinated, she stared at the child In the wheelchair. The engcr little hands fumbled with the gay ribbon, then the biggest, shiniest shini-est bugle came Into view. He hugged it to himself. "I knew, oh, I knew he would bring it If I asked her to tell him!" Janet sat there, entranced. Nurses were taking their charges owny. nnd Jimmy was out of sight. And then, somehow, she was running run-ning after him, and her arms were about it. |