Christmas Stories And Legends | Page 3

topsy-turvy!"
"My! What does he want to do?" inquired Cousin Augusta.
"Oh, he calls it the 'White Gift Christmas'; but the long and short of the
matter is, that he proposes to 'turn down' Santa Claus, and all the old
time-honored customs connected with Christmas that are so dear to the
hearts of the children, and have the school do the giving. He has a big
banner hung up in the Sunday school room bearing the words, 'Gifts for
the Christ-Child'."
"An excellent idea," exclaimed Uncle John, "but I don't see much of an
innovation about that; you have always made the children's giving a
part of your Christmas celebration, have you not?"
"Certainly!" rejoined Marcia. "They have always brought their little
gifts for the poor, and that is all right; but this time there are no gifts to
the Sunday school at all."
"Not even to the Primary School?" asked Augusta.
"Well," admitted Marcia, "Mr. Robinson gave the children their choice
today, whether they would have the old Christmas or the 'White Gift
Christmas,' and they all voted for the new idea."
"Why then should the children be obliged to have gifts, if they don't
want them?" laughed Augusta.
"Oh, children are always taken with novelty, and Mr. Robinson told it
to them in such a way that fancy was captivated; but I don't think they
really understood what they were giving up."

"Marcia, it seems to me that your are emphasizing the wrong side of the
subject if I understand it aright," said Jack.
"Why, do you know about it?" asked Marcia, in surprise.
"Not much," replied Jack; "but I read the White Gift story in the
'Sunday School Times,' and the report of the Painesville experiment."
"Well, Jack, tell us what you know about this mysterious 'White Gift',"
commanded his father.
"I would rather Marcia should tell it, father; I know so little."
"Oh, go on, Jack," urged Marcia; "you can't possibly know less about it
than I do, for I confess I was so full of the disappointment of the little
ones that the other side of it didn't impress me very much."
"Well, as I remember it," said Jack, "the gist of the plan is this--that
Christmas is Christ's birthday, and we should make our gifts to him,
instead of to one another; and the idea of the White Gift was suggested
by the story of the Persian king named Kublah Khan, who was a wise
and good ruler, and greatly beloved. On his birthday his subjects kept
what they called the 'White Feast.' This was celebrated in an immense
great white banqueting-hall, and each one of his subjects brought to
their king a white gift to express that the love and loyalty of their hearts
was without stain. The rich brought white chargers, ivory and alabaster;
the poor brought white pigeons, or even a measure of rice; and the great
king regarded all gifts alike, so long as they were white. Have I told it
right, cousin?" queried Jack.
"Yes, I think so. It is a beautiful thought, I must confess, and might be
all right in a large, rich Sunday school; but in a mission school like ours
I am sure it will be a failure. It will end in our losing our scholars. I
don't believe in taking up new ideas without considering whether they
are adapted to our needs or not. But please, dear folkses, don't let us say
anything more about it," pleaded Marcia, and so the subject was
dropped.

That evening as Jack Thornton bade his cousin good-bye, he placed in
her hand a little package, saying: "I am so sorry, Marcia, that I can't be
here for your birthday, but here is my remembrance. Now don't you
dare open it before Tuesday, and, dear, you may be sure it is a 'white
gift,' and may you have a 'white birthday'." And before she could say a
word, he had opened the door, and was gone.
Touched by his thoughtful gift and his words, she said to herself: "A
'white birthday!' I always have perfectly beautiful birthdays." And so
she did; for she was always looking out for other people's birthdays,
and making much of them; and so she always got the gospel measure:
"Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and
shaken together, and running over, shall man give into your bosom."
But these thoughts were crowded out by the pressure of things to be
done--father and mother had gone into the country to visit a sick friend,
and the younger brothers and sisters surrounded her and clamored for
songs and Bible stories, and as she was a good older sister she devoted
herself to them until their bedtime. Then, turning out the lights, she