The Lights on the Christmas Tree

The Lights on the Christmas Tree

by Florence Page Jaques

Once the Christmas tree lights were not lights at all. They were the colors in the rainbow. Just a perfectly good rainbow – the kind you see in the sky after a rain. And when Santa Claus made the very first Christmas tree, it was easy to see that he needed a rainbow for a decoration. Because all the decorations he had were white. He lived at the North Pole, then, you know, as he does now, and when he had powdered the tree with snow and hung icicles all over it and tied snowballs on the ends of the branches, he looked at it and said;

“No – it's pretty, but it ought to have some color on it. It needs some red and green and blue and gold.”

“Oh, Santa Claus,” said the Littlest White Bear. “Let's put a rainbow on it!”

“That's just what it needs,” Santa Claus agreed. “I'll send the Biggest White Bear to get one.”

“Oh!” said the Littlest White Bear. He was so disappointed that the tears came to his eyes. “I was the one who thought of the rainbow. I think you might let me find it!”

“All right then,” Santa Claus said kindly. “But you must be very careful. Rainbows are easy to break, you know, and really you are the clumsiest, funny little bear.”

“Oh, I will be careful,” promised the Littlest Bear, and he ran and ran on his fat little legs till he found the most beautiful rainbow. Then he picked it and hung it over his back and went home to Santa Claus, walking very carefully. He walked safely past the snow fields and safely past the icebergs and safely past the slippery slides, and at last he came to Santa Claus's steps, and saw Santa Claus in the doorway, waiting for him.

“Hurrah!” he laughed, waving his little front paws in triumph. “Here it is!”

And just then both his back feet slipped and – boom! He fell on his back, and the rainbow was broken into a thousand pieces.

“Don't cry, don't cry,” said Santa Claus, hurrying down the steps. “You aren't hurt!”

“No, but the rainbow is,” sobbed the Littlest White Bear, “and I tried so hard to be careful.”

“Never you mind.” Santa Claus patted him gently. “We'll put the pieces of the rainbow on the tree.”

So they picked up a blue piece and put it here, and they picked up a red piece and put it there, and the Christmas tree was prettier than if the rainbow had been all together.

“Oh,” said the Littlest White Bear, “I'm glad I fell down!”

And ever since then we have had beautiful rainbow colored lights on the Christmas tree.

Honesty's Reward

Honesty’s Reward

The year was 1916 and I was eight years old.  While it happened long ago, it is still the Christmas I remember best.

Our family lived in a little village in Wales that went by the quaint name of Old Furnace.  Our family consisted of Mam and Dad and eight children.  The youngest was Ivor John, who was born two months early and was still a sickly child.

November that year was colder than usual.  There was rain and snow with a cruel north wind that cut like a knife.  One day while walking home from his work at the colliery, Dad found a woman’s purse just outside the big iron gate of the Tredegar estate.  He opened it and found that it belong to Lady Tredegar.  Besides her identification there was a roll of paper money that was more than Dad had ever seen at one time.

He took the money in his hand and thought of all the things it would buy, especially with Christmas approaching.  But he had been trained to be honest, so he returned the money to the purse and swung open the big, iron gate.  Lady Tredegar received him quite casually and after counting the money, and finding it all there, inquired of his name and where he lived.

“You are an honest man and it shall not be forgotten,” she said and then motioned to the butler to show him out.

As Dad continued homeward, he fumed that Lady Tredegar had not given him a small reward.  He was still angry when he entered our cottage and told mother of the incident.

In her Welsh dialect, she spoke to my father, “Indeed now, it’s an honest man you are, and God will not forget.”

As November came to a close, the bitter cold took its toll and Dad was stricken with pneumonia.  In those days there were no antibiotics or other medication to fight this disease and one could only wait for the change that would decide life or death.  For a while, it looked as if he would not live to see Christmas, but one night the change came.

We heard him call for Mam and we children crowded around his bed.  He change had come.  He was in a deep sweat and the fever was leaving.  He would live to see Christmas.

Those were the days, too, when there was no such thing as sick pay or unemployment insurance, so before very long the family was in dire straits.  Dad was still weak and it would be some time before he could return to work.

A few days before Christmas, Mam called the family together in the living room and explained that because of Dad’s illness there was no money for Christmas gifts, except for one, “Dad is still with us,” she added.

Christmas Eve came and as we sat by the fireside we could hear the voices of the carolers in the distance and over the cold frosty air came the chimes of the bells of Trevethin Church.

Dad was sitting in his big leather chair, his feet by the fire with Mam’s shawl over his lap.  He looked around at this family and with a voice touched by emotion he said, “We have no gifts to give this year, but God has given us voices so let us sing of Bethlehem and the birth of Jesus.”

So, as a family, we blended our voices and sang the songs of Christmas.  As we were singing, there was the sound of horses hooves on the road outside.  They stopped in front of our house.  Then came a knock at the door.  Mam answered and there, with a huge basket in his arms, was Lady Tredegar’s butler.  He put the basket on the kitchen table and returned to the waiting carriage.  He came back with a second basket as full as the first.

As he turned to leave he said to Mam, “Lady Tredegar wishes an honest man a Merry Christmas.”

Eagerly, the baskets were opened and an array of gifts was uncovered.  There was a warm jacket for Dad and gloves in the pocket, a blue dress for Mam and gifts for the children.  In the second basket was a huge goose surrounded by fruits from many lands.

This was the best Christmas I remember, best and one that will never be forgotten.