Christmas in Chicago! When Mary Jane heard those words she had her first real pang of homesickness for the home she had left when they moved to Chicago. Would any Christmas anywhere ever be so beautiful as the Christmas in that dear home? She remembered the pine trees in the yard, loaded down with their wealth of snow: the glowing fire on the hearth with its Christmas-y smell from the pine cones that were saved through the year for the Christmas Day fire; the tree in the angle near the fireplace where the afternoon sun touched it into a blaze of glory; the party for the poor children that had been such fun to plan for—would anything in Chicago ever be half the fun of Christmas in the old home? But Mary Jane was soon to discover that Christmas doesn’t need certain houses or fires or trees to make it perfect; that Christmas is made in folks’ hearts and that wherever there is a Christmas heart, there will be a happy day—in village or city, the place makes no difference.

When she went home from school that afternoon and announced that Miss Treavor said Christmas was so very near, she found that mother wasn’t even a little surprised.

“Why to be sure Christmas is coming,” laughed Mrs. Merrill, “and here I’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting for you to talk about it till, actually, I thought I’d had to begin myself, if you didn’t wake up pretty soon.” And then everybody began to talk at once.

“Do they have trees in Chicago?” asked Alice.

“Are there any poor folks who would like parties?” asked Mary Jane.

“Is anybody coming to see us?” demanded Mary Jane.

“Here! Here! Here!” exclaimed Mr. Merrill, “one at a time, ladies, one at a time! If you doubt that there will be trees in Chicago, you should see what I saw this morning as I went down to work. A train load of Christmas trees—yes, sir!” (for he noticed the girls could hardly believe him) “a whole train load of trees. And I see by the paper this evening that a boat load has arrived, too, so there will be no shortage of trees.”

“Then we can have one,” said Mary Jane, with a satisfied sigh.

“And let’s put it in front of this foolish little gas log,” suggested Alice, “then we won’t think about a real fireplace.”

“And there are plenty of poor folks,” said Mrs. Merrill, going back to Mary Jane’s question, “only they will not be so easy to get together, as back at home. How would you like to take a Christmas party to some family instead of having a party at home as we did last year?”

The girls hardly knew what to say about that new idea so Mrs. Merrill explained further. “I telephoned to the Associated Charities this very day,” she said, “and they gave me the names of a fatherless family in which there are two girls about your ages, and one boy. I thought we could plan a fine Christmas for them and then, on Christmas morning, take it over and surprise them.”

“Oh, let’s do that, mother,” said Mary Jane happily, “then we’d be like a real Santa Claus only we’d be a morning Santa. May we do it, surely?”

“I thought you’d like the idea,” said Mrs. Merrill, “so I got lists from the association as to just what was most needed. Alice, if you’ll get a pencil and paper, we’ll figure it all out.”

Making plans was the girls’ favorite way of spending an evening so they whisked the cover off the dining table, pulled up chairs for four and went to work list-making.

“Tom,” began Mrs. Merrill, consulting her list, “hasn’t a bit of warm clothing.”

“Why couldn’t I knit him a muffler and some mittens?” asked Mary Jane. “I remember how and I haven’t knitted anything since the war stopped.”

“Fine!” approved Mrs. Merrill, “I think I have enough yarn for the mittens and if you’ll get it out of the drawer there we can wind it while we talk and it will be all ready for you to set up at once. You’ll have to work hard and fast if you want to make a muffler and a pair of mittens before Christmas.”

“Now then,” she continued, looking at the list, “they have very few bed covers and the children get so cold at night.”

“Why couldn’t you make some covers, mother?” suggested Alice, “and let me make them each some flannelette pajamas like we wear—you know how toasting warm they are. And I have the pattern and I know I could make them all myself.”

“That’s a beautiful idea,” approved Mrs. Merrill, “and I hadn’t even thought of such a thing. When we get through planning, dear, you can get out your pattern and see how much material you’ll need. Then, when I go up town to-morrow, I’ll get it for you.”

“And they need stockings,” she continued, “and shoes—”

“Could any of ’em wear my good shoes that are too little?” asked Mary Jane eagerly. She had been greatly distressed about those “best” shoes that were so good, and yet were hopelessly outgrown.

“I think they’ll be exactly right,” said Mrs. Merrill. “In fact I picked out this particular family because I was sure we could find nice things for them among you girls’ outgrown things and that, put with what we buy new, would make all the bigger Christmas for them.

“And about toys,” she continued with the list, “the girls have never had a doll—”

“Never had—” began Mary Jane but she couldn’t quite get the words out. Never had a doll. Never had a Marie Georgiannamore to love and care for and take riding in a beautiful cart. Never had—no, she couldn’t quite imagine it.

After that there was no more reading off a list. Mary Jane and Alice began making a list of their own, of what those children were to have for Christmas.

“But,” objected Mrs. Merrill, “you girls forget that things cost money—a lot of money these days. And you can’t possibly buy all those things and get any Christmas of your own too.”

“Humph!” grunted Mary Jane as she squeezed her face up tight in an effort to write, “then we won’t have one of our own! Haven’t we got Marie Georgiannamore and a cart and a nice house and warm clothes—and—everything?”

That settled it. There would be a tree and dinner and a lot of fun in the Merrill house on Christmas Day, but the presents were to go to their adopted family to make their Christmas one never to be forgotten.

If you have ever planned a Christmas for somebody who never, in all their lives had one, you will know something about the fun that Mary Jane and Alice had in the time that was left before Christmas. They were about the busiest girls in all Chicago! They hurried home from school and they worked Saturdays but, actually, as soon as they got one thing done they thought of something else they wanted to make or buy and they had to begin all over again. They made cookies and candies and dressed dolls, one for each girl, and made a complete set of covers and pillows and “fixings” for an adorable doll bed that Mr. Merrill made in the evenings. Alice had to work pretty hard to get the pajamas all finished in time for there was considerable work on each pair; but she got them finished and she could hardly wait till Christmas to take them over to their family.

Mary Jane finished the muffler and mittens though she almost had to knit while she ate—towards the last—it takes a good many stitches to make a muffler big enough for an eight year old boy. The muffler was a deep crimson and the mittens a warm shade of gray with three rows of crimson in the wrist end; Mary Jane had picked colors she was sure Tom would like.

At last the twenty-fourth of December came around—cold and snowy and just the kind of a day for making a Christmas. The trees were bought and set on the balcony, the turkeys, two of them, were in the pantry ready to dress and three big baskets were set on the dining-room table ready for packing.

“Now, then,” said Mrs. Merrill, “if you have everything ready, I think we’d better pack all the things we can now, because when Dadah comes home there’ll be plenty to do.”

Mary Jane thought the packing was the most fun of anything she had ever done. They packed all the doll things in one basket, doll things and toys and three nice books. Of course the doll bed wouldn’t go in the basket; it had to have a package all by itself. A second basket was for clothing, the pajamas—and no one would ever guess that a girl as young as Alice had made those charming garments—the muffler, the mittens, one pair for each child, warm underwear and a dress for each girl (one of the nicest of Alice and Mary Jane’s outgrown frocks). Mr. Merrill had added a nice flannel shirt for Tom and Mrs. Merrill put in a warm sweater for the good mother.

“That’s a basket they’ll like to open,” said Alice, proudly, as she tucked the brand new comforter Mrs. Merrill had made, around the top, “they’ll be so happy they won’t hardly be able to wait till they can put ’em on!”

The third basket was fully as interesting as the others. It was a big, big one and in it the girls packed groceries, cans of vegetables and soup and sugar—a very little bit to be sure for there wasn’t much to be had, but the Merrills had decided to send exactly half of what they had—and oranges for breakfast and cereals and bread. Then on top, they were to put cookies and candy and the turkey. But of course those last things would go in in the morning, just before the baskets were taken away.

By the time Mr. Merrill came home, the three baskets were packed, covered up and set in the corner of the dining-room ready for morning.

“Now for the tree!” said Mr. Merrill as he took off his coat ready for work. He set their tree in the dining-room and with Alice’s good help fixed a solid bottom standard and set it up in the living-room right in front of the foolish little fireplace. They wired it firmly and then Mrs. Merrill brought in the boxes of Christmas trimmings and everybody set to work.

Such fun as it was! Mary Jane kept saying, “Remember this!” And Alice added, “Remember that!” till it seemed as though it couldn’t be more than a week since last Christmas when they had put the same things on a tree that looked exactly like the one they were now trimming. This year, seeing Mary Jane was such a very old person, she was allowed to put the gold star on the top of the tree; she climbed the ladder, with father holding one hand and wired it on all by herself; and Alice, as a special privilege, was allowed to hang the crystal icicles on every tip.

Nobody put any tinsel on the tree—that was left for the middle of the night like the story of the old time legend. Whether the spiders and the Christmas fairies, working together, really covered the tree with silver, Mary Jane never stopped to figure out. But at any rate the tree was covered with strings of gold the next morning and Mary Jane thought it the prettiest Christmas tree she had ever seen!

The very last thing before she went to bed, Mary Jane hung up her stocking. And Alice, looking a bit foolish, hung hers close by.

“I thought you two folks weren’t going to have any Christmas,” said Mr. Merrill teasingly.

“Of course we’re not,” said Mary Jane bravely, “but we want to hang our stockings just the same as if—you know.” And Dadah must have understood for he nodded his head and didn’t tease any more.

Nobody would say how it ever happened. Certainly it was well understood that there were to be no presents. But, anyway, when Mary Jane and Alice looked at those stockings Christmas morning they were fat, as fat could be! Just bulging over with queer shaped parcels!

Mary Jane couldn’t even wait to put her slippers on! She bundled a kimono around her, grabbed up her stocking and ran into her mother’s room to open it. Alice wasn’t far behind and certainly for girls who were to have no presents, they fared very well indeed! Santa Claus must have got his signals mixed some way! There were doll things for Marie Georgiannamore, and a ring for Mary Jane; hair ribbons, handkerchiefs, skates for Alice (think of that in a stocking!) and slippers for the little girl who forgot to put on her old pair and, oh, many lovely little things that could be tucked into a stocking.

The girls spread the things out on mother’s bed and had a happy time till suddenly Mr. Merrill exclaimed, “Girls! It’s eight o’clock and I ordered that taxi for nine!”

Then there was a scramble! Gifts were hustled away, clothes were put on, breakfast was eaten and a few last things packed in the baskets, just as the taxi arrived.

It was fortunate Mr. Merrill had ordered a big car for with three baskets, a bundle containing the doll bed and another the turkey, to say nothing of the tree roped on the side of the car and the box of trimmings on Mrs. Merrill’s lap even a big car was pretty full.

Mary Jane felt like a real Santa Claus for sure!

The family they were going to see didn’t know they were coming, so when the car stopped in front of a shabby little house, three puzzled and very sober faces pressed against the window and looked out. But the sober faces soon changed. In a few minutes the mother was helping Mrs. Merrill put the turkey in to roast, the older girl was helping Mr. Merrill set the Christmas tree in place and Tom and Ellen, the little girl, were helping the Merrill girls trim the tree.

When the Merrills left the house some two hours later the turkey was almost cooked, the tree was trimmed, presents unpacked and happiness and good cheer had settled down in the little house for many a day.

It was a good thing they came away when they did, though, for exactly as they drove up to their own home, they met an express wagon. And in their own vestibule they found the driver. “Family of Merrill here?” he asked them.

“They’re us,” said Mary Jane eagerly. And whereupon the driver carried upstairs the biggest, fattest Christmas box Mary Jane had ever seen.

Of course it was from grandma and in it were so many lovely things from uncles and grandparents and cousins that Mary Jane thought she never would get everything unpacked!

“Well,” said the little girl as some time later the family sat down to their own belated dinner, “I think for not having any presents, we got a lot! And I think I like Christmas in Chicago just as much as anywhere, I do.”