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Show The I Christmas ; Present By Helen Gaisford ipHE gay Christmas colors of OL the packages in Gloria Par-son's Par-son's arms made a bright spot in the whirling snow. On her collar col-lar was a spray of holly, and a wreath hung over one arm. She picked her "way along the snow-covered path to the Stevens' cottage. - Old Mrs. Stevens answered an-swered her knock. "Why, Gloria 1" she exclaimed,- "That's right it is Christmas, isn't it?" "Yes, indeed," Gloria . replied. "Time to be merry ! Now this wreath goes on the window, so I And here is a bit of fruit cake and some other goodies. This Is your present, and this is Mr. Stevens' present, and here is some medicine for him besides. How is he today?" to-day?" "Bless your kind soul," Mrs. Stevens Stev-ens answered. "I don't know how to thank you for all you've done for us old folks. He's just about the same, thank you. When one Is old and apparently forgotten, one doesn't get well quickly." "Why you aren't forgotten, Mrs. Stevens," said Gloria. "I could never forget you." "No, you've been a dear, but sometimes " She was Interrupted by a knock at the door, where there stood a tall, broad-shouldered man. When Mrs. Stevens opened the door, he picked her up without a word and carried her into the room. Then, as she gasped In astonishment, astonish-ment, he put her down. "Mother," he asked, "don't you know your own son Jim?" "Why, it is it Is my boy!" she clasped him to her. "Father," she cried, "it's our boy Jim come home again." "I'll Just say Merry Christmas and run along," Gloria began, but Mrs. Stevens would not hear of It. When, some time later, Gloria did leave, Jim accompanied her to her car. "I just want to thank you for all you've done for them," he told her. "You can't think much of me, letting let-ting them down this way. But I guess lots of fellows, when they get to roaming, forget to write home. If I'd known dad was sick " "I understand," Gloria answered, "and I'm sure he will be much better bet-ter now. You were the Christmas present he really needed." "Mother," Jim asked, when he got back to the house, "didn't you say this girl had been like a daughter to you?" "Yes, Indeed, my son." "Well, I think shes great. I've made my pile, and I'm going to stay home from now on. If things work out, maybe she will be a daughter to you by next Christmas." , 1933, Western Nowspaper Union. |