"Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents," grumbled
Jo, lying on the rug. "It's so dreadful to be poor!"
sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress. "I don't
think it's fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty
things, and other girls nothing at all," added little
Amy, with an injured sniff. "We've got Father and Mother,
and each other," said Beth contentedly from her corner.
The four young faces on which the firelight shone
brightened at the cheerful words, but darkened again as
Jo said sadly, "We haven't got Father, and shall not
have him for a long time." She didn't say "perhaps
never," but each silently added it, thinking of Father
far away, where the fighting was. Nobody spoke for
a minute; then Meg said in an altered tone, "You
know the reason Mother proposed not having any presents
this Christmas was because it is going to be a hard
winter for everyone; and she thinks we ought not to
spend money for pleasure, when our men are suffering
so in the army. We can't do much, but we can make
our little sacrifices, and ought to do it gladly.
But I am afraid I don't." And Meg shook her head, as
she thought regretfully of all the pretty things she
wanted.