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Excerpt from Cherished and Shared of Old
Dutch children she'd taken into her home. They were warm now at night - not wan dering on a road. They weren't hungry now - mercy no, she'd seen to that, but what are they thinking, she'd wonder, as at times they'd sit there so gravely. She wished they'd do more things they shouldn't, for when you're too good you must be a little afraid.
She hadn't been able to stand the pic tures in the papers - so many tired chil dren wanting to get back home. Her daughter Emmey, in the East, was work ing for little ones who had been turned out into the world. Mother dear, she wrote, I can't get home this Christmas just can't. But I could send you two children for whom you could make a Christmas - the way you used to for me and Jack. You'll be so sorry for Johanna and Piet, and come to love them; perhaps you'll want them to stay on there with you in our old home. There were always children on the Morrison place.
So once more there were children on the old Morrison place, but could she make a happy Christmas for this little girland boy bereft of their own? She could say Merry Christmas, but could she make their hearts glad? And what is Christmas if there is not warmth within?
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