click here<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\nI.<\/h6>\n
It was Christmas Eve.<\/p>\n
Not the part of Christmas Eve where everything is hushed and candle-lit, vibrating with the peal of church bells and swelling with the voice of sacred carols.<\/p>\n
Not the part of Christmas Eve where children turn in restless bliss upon downy pillows, too eager for morning to submit to sleep away the night.<\/p>\n
Not, in short, the part of Christmas Eve that poets write of, and painters glorify, and Christmas card manufacturers depend upon for the staple content of their livelihood.<\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t that<\/em> half of Christmas Eve.<\/p>\nOn the contrary, it was a quarter past nine, on Christmas Eve morning.<\/p>\n
The cook was beginning to notice that the turkey ought to have arrived from the poulterers\u2014and hadn\u2019t. Mrs. Bonnet was beginning to wonder whether it had been a mistake to invite twenty-six people to a dining room that conveniently held twelve.<\/p>\n
And upstairs, in her own little bedroom with the picture of the Good Shepherd, Betty was beginning to wrap her Christmas dolls.<\/p>\n
II.<\/h6>\n
\u201cYou might help me, you know,\u201d said Betty.<\/p>\n
This was certainly true\u2014but the word \u201cmight\u201d is a very non-committal one.<\/p>\n
I pointed this out to Betty.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou ought<\/em> to help me,\u201d suggested Betty, hopefully.<\/p>\nThis was possibly true\u2014but the word \u201cought\u201d carries an implication of authority which is sometimes very difficult to establish.<\/p>\n
I pointed this out to Betty, as well.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wish you would<\/em> help me,\u201d pleaded Betty, with wistful eyes.<\/p>\nI gave in, and helped.<\/p>\n
III.<\/h6>\n
You fancy that you have seen a good many dolls in your time. I dare say you have.<\/p>\n
![\"Betty](\"http:\/\/sawpublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Betty-Bonnet-December-Pinterest-e1703084893477.jpg\")
It was my own opinion that I<\/em> had, long before I knew Betty Bonnet at all.<\/p>\nBut it still remains my firm conviction that no one<\/em> has truly seen what a veritable mountain of dolls may be, who was not in Betty Bonnet\u2019s bedroom, on the morning before Christmas, assisting in the massive task of tying them up in red, white, and green tissue paper, and marking each one with the name of their future owner.<\/p>\n\u201cYou have got\u2014rather a lot\u2014of dolls,\u201d I remarked, a little distractedly, as I rolled up a gorgeously-bedecked lady of nine inches, fastening her at head and feet with a crimson ribbon, so that the whole bore the semblance of a gigantic cracker, just ready to be pulled.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have got rather a lot of friends,\u201d Betty informed me seriously. \u201cTake care, Miss Burton\u2014you\u2019ve got the little one upside down!\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced down at the miniature baby nestled in my palm, and perceived that what I had been shaking out as ruffled skirts was actually the brim of a much-flounced cap. I hastily rectified the mistake.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis one isn\u2019t\u2014for your mother?\u201d I inquired, doubtfully, consulting Betty\u2019s hieroglyphic list.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe likes babies,\u201d protested Betty, a little defiantly.<\/p>\n
It was no good arguing the point now. After all, the dolls were already purchased. And Betty, in the plenitude of her bounty, had<\/em> secured them in addition<\/em> to her usual Christmas offerings. Everyone had a present from Betty, already wrapped and waiting in the drawing room for Christmas morning. The dolls were simply a gratuitous token of love.<\/p>\nIV.<\/h6>\n
Sometime after luncheon, Betty and I finished our task.<\/p>\n
We met Bob, on the stairs, on our way down with our arms full of multi-sized bundles.<\/p>\n
\u201cCrikey!\u201d exclaimed Bob. \u201cAre those all\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHush!\u201d I interrupted hastily. \u201cAnd what if they are?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing,\u201d said Bob, meekly, but his eyes crinkled up suspiciously, and something choked rather suffocatingly in the bottom of his throat, so that he had to turn hastily into his own room, with his handkerchief pressed to his mouth.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wonder what\u2019s the matter with Bob,\u201d said Betty, looking after him thoughtfully.<\/p>\n
A chortled gasp from the other side of the door was her only reply.<\/p>\n
At the foot of the stairs we met Mr. Bonnet. He was just coming in with a bundle of holly in his arms, but his face looked grave\u2014not the sort of grave that comes from the mere trifle of having a profusion of prickly green leaves trailing over your sleeves and working their way uncomfortably into the gap between your cuffs and your gloves, but really grave. The kind of grave that means something serious has happened.<\/p>\n
V.<\/h6>\n
\u201cBetty,\u201d he said, without even seeming to see the mountain of slightly-disguised dolls beneath which both of us staggered. \u201cWhat was the name of that shopkeeper you and Billy were so eager about, last winter?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Anderson?\u201d said Betty, looking up and becoming suddenly concerned. \u201cMr. Anderson! Oh, Miss Burton! Papa! I forgot!\u201d Betty\u2019s distress was as real and heartfelt as if only the kindest sentiments had ever existed between them. \u201cI forgot all about poor Mr. Anderson! I never remembered to buy him a Christmas present!!!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\u201cAt this particular moment, I do not expect that the omission is at the forefront of his mind,\u201d said Mr. Bonnet. \u201cIn fact, he has something more serious to think of.\u201d<\/p>\n
Betty blinked.<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing very<\/em> serious?\u201d I interposed tentatively.<\/p>\n\u201cIt appears the construction of his new storefront was more elaborate than sound,\u201d said Mr. Bonnet. \u201cIt collapsed, last night, in the face of that eastern storm\u2014no, there was no loss of life, only considerable damage of merchandise. The entire doll counter\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Mr. Bonnet stopped abruptly, recollecting, a little too late, the light in which these casualties would be likely to appear to Betty.<\/p>\n
VI.<\/h6>\n
\u201cThe doll<\/em> counter, Papa?\u201d cried Betty, in horror, very nearly dropping the vast load of similar property with which she herself was weighed down. \u201cThe doll<\/em> counter, Papa! Oh, were any of them hurt?\u201d<\/p>\nFrom the expression on Mr. Bonnet\u2019s face, anyone older than Betty would have already concluded that the destruction had been complete.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am afraid, my dear\u2014it was a very bad storm, and the counter is directly behind the new window\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, oh! Papa! They aren\u2019t there\u2014all broken\u2014in the cold and the snow?\u201d wailed Betty, dismally.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, no, darling,\u201d said Mr. Bonnet, glad of something he could<\/em> controvert. \u201cThey aren\u2019t there now. All that\u2019s been\u2014taken away\u2014and the store front boarded up. He thinks he can keep open, in spite of the losses. Christmas Eve, with the last great toy rush, and all that, though I can\u2019t imagine how he\u2019s to turn any profit, with half his stock carried off in this fashion.\u201d<\/p>\nWhether or not Betty quite comprehended the fate that had actually attended the dolls which had been in Mr. Anderson\u2019s shop the night before, it is certain that she grasped the result quite as thoroughly as any adult could have done.<\/p>\n
\u201cPapa!\u201d she exclaimed suddenly. \u201cHe hasn\u2019t got any dolls to sell for Christmas!\u201d<\/p>\n
VII.<\/h6>\n
\u201cI am afraid not, Betty,\u201d agreed her father, reluctantly.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut people \u2018most always want dolls, for Christmas presents,\u201d persisted Betty, in shocked dismay.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2014believe they do, often, my dear,\u201d said Mr. Bonnet, glancing involuntarily at the load still balanced in Betty\u2019s arms.<\/p>\n
Betty glanced too.<\/p>\n
A sudden dreamy, wistful look drifted across Betty\u2019s eyes. She drew a long breath. Then she put her small, rosy face very close to the tissue-wrapped bundles.<\/p>\n
\u201cWould you like to?\u201d she whispered, apparently to the dolls inside. \u201cAre you quite sure? I thought you\u2019d be. It isn\u2019t very far, and you\u2019re wrapped up well, from the cold. It won\u2019t be quite<\/em> so nice as belonging to my own people, for always, you know. But there are lots of other little children, who mayn\u2019t get any Christmas dolls at all, if you don\u2019t go. And Mamma and everybody will understand. Truly they will. Yes, I believe you\u2019re right, darlings. It will be the best thing to do. And you know,\u201d Betty\u2019s voice dropped to the lowest of murmurs, \u201cyou know Who<\/em> it was came, a little baby like you, to be our Present, the very first Christmas night.\u201d<\/p>\nBetty looked up, with the joy of the ages shining in her deep brown eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cPapa,\u201d she said, holding out her tissue mountain with a gesture that almost threatened to upset the whole, \u201cthese<\/em> are for Mr. Anderson. They\u2019re Christmas dolls.\u201d<\/p>\nVIII.<\/h6>\n
It was a strange thing. A very<\/em> strange thing. But then, it was Christmas\u2014and strange miracles of love do nestle, sometimes, in hearts that are alive to the Christ Child\u2019s call.<\/p>\nFor Betty\u2019s dolls, unrolled from their festive wrappings, proved just exactly the right number to fill up Mr. Anderson\u2019s hastily-erected makeshift shelves.<\/p>\n
And Mr. Anderson, when he came around to the Bonnet\u2019s house on Christmas morning, told Betty that before he had closed his shop the night before, every one of Betty\u2019s Christmas dolls had found a home.<\/p>\n
He did not add to her, as he did to the grown ups, later on, that the profit he turned in the process had just saved his business from going down in the wreck of the new storefront, too.<\/p>\n
Betty would have been glad for him, had she known. But it would not have interested her half so much as the fate of the dolls themselves.<\/p>\n
For as Betty observed\u2014and as I suppose really is the truth\u2014it isn\u2019t the buying, or the selling, or even the giving, that makes Christmas the happiest day of all. It is simply the loving.<\/p>\n
Which may be the reason that Betty, and her kindred, have always been so very fond of dolls.<\/p>\n
THE END.<\/em><\/p>\nThank you for joining us for all of Betty’s adventures. Stay tuned for more information about SAW Publishing releases coming up in the new year. We have some exciting stories lined up for 2024! In the meantime, if you missed last month’s episode of Betty Bonnet, you can click through to it right below:<\/em><\/p>\n![\"Betty](\"http:\/\/sawpublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Betty-Bonnet-November-366.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Welcome to the final episode of the Betty Bonnet serial story. During the past year, we have released one chapter on the Sheep Among Wolves blog each month, following the… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":5835,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[87,85,58,60,61],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5848","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-betty-bonnet","category-christmas-stories","category-fiction","category-sawpublications","category-the-bookshelf"],"yoast_head":"\n
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![\"Betty](\"http:\/\/sawpublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/Betty-Bonnet-December-366.jpg\")
Welcome to the final episode of the Betty Bonnet serial story. During the past year, we have released one chapter on the Sheep Among Wolves blog each month, following the adventures of the Bonnet family, who were first created by Sheila Young as a paper doll series released in the Ladies\u2019 Home Journal beginning 1915. To go to the first episode, click here<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n