We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
Hotatooet
Here is a way, as simple and
beautiful as the Christmas
story itself, for you to make the coming holidays the most memorable of your whole life
WHEN my daughter Betty was a small child she used to notice the heavy mail which arrived each day in my mail box and wondered why it was that she didn't get many letters. So one day she called me into a private conference and said to me:
"Now Dad, I want to know something. You get a pile of mail every morning and I only get a letter once a month or so. How do you get so many?"
I said to Betty: "Well, dear, it's this way. I get a lot of letters because I write a lot of letters and if you expect to receive mail you will have to write it."
"Oh, I see," she said, reflectively; "so you have to work for it?"
"Yes, Betty. In fact, you have to work for anything in this life that is worth getting."
So it is with this business of how to get the most out of Christmas. You have to work for it. The best way I know of getting the most out of Christmas is to give the most to Christmas.
The happiest Christmas I can remember in all my days is a certain Christmas in Moundsville, West Virginia, back in the depression — we called it a panic then — of 1892. My mother came from a wealthy Kansas family. My father had gone to Winfield, Kansas, from Moundsville and found a job in a grocery store. One of the families which dealt in that store was named Robinson. They had a beautiful young
10
daughter named Etta. She came for the family groceries and met my father, fell in love with him and married him. By doing so she stepped out of a home of luxury into a home of poverty. Added to that poverty there were soon five children. I was the oldest of those five children.
On this Christmas of 1892, my father was out of work and we were very poor. Mother came to me because I was the oldest of the five children and said to me: "Willie, Father has not had any work for several months and I'm afraid that we won't have much of a Christmas this year unless we have a homemade one. I'm talking to you because you are the oldest of the children and I'll have to depend on you to help Mother make a Christmas for the rest of the family."
I remember agreeing with my mother outwardly, with sevenyear-old solemnity, but I also remember that it was quite a shock to me that I was to have to create that Christmas and not to be on the receiving end of the line. To my mother I gave a cheerful assent; but alone I wept over that prospect.
And so we started in to get things ready for that memorable Christmas. Mother and I together strung pop-corn strings to decorate the tree. We made simple little toys; we made candy. We went out into the woods and cut a tree. It was all a lot of fun and the smaller children did not know anything
Illustration By B. Rieqer
RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR