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    Christmas Eve at Swamps End
    Christmas Eve at Swamps End
    Christmas Eve at Swamps End
    Ebook29 pages21 minutes

    Christmas Eve at Swamps End

    By Norman Duncan

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    About this ebook

    Christmas is the most famous holiday of the year, and the word itself evokes images of Santa Claus, reindeer, snow, Christmas trees, egg nog and more. At the same time, it represents Christianity's most important event, the birth of the baby Jesus. Instantly, well known Christmas carols ring in your ears, pictures of the Nativity Scene become ubiquitous, or maybe you even picture nutcrackers or Scrooge and Tiny Tim.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCharles River Editors
    Release dateMar 22, 2018
    ISBN9781614304395
    Christmas Eve at Swamps End

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      Book preview

      Christmas Eve at Swamps End - Norman Duncan

      Christmas Eve at Swamp's End

      THE WISTFUL HEART

      IT was long after noon in the far, big, white Northwest. Day was on the wing. Christmas Eve splendidly impended—thank God for unspoiled childish faith and joys of children everywhere! Christmas Eve was fairly within view and welcoming hail, at last, in the thickening eastern shadows. Long Day at its close. Day in a perturbation of blessed unselfishness. Day with its tasks of love not half accomplished. And Day near done! Bedtime coming round the world on the jump. Nine o’clock leaping from longitude to longitude. Night, impatient and determined, chasing all the children of the world in drowsy expectation to sleep—making a clean sweep of ‘em, every one, with her soft, wide broom of dusk. "Nine o’clock? Shoo! Off you go! To-morrow’s on the way. Soon—oh, soon! To-morrow’s here when you fall asleep. Said ‘em already, have you? Not another word from either of you. Not a whisper, ye grinning rascals! Cuddle down, little people of Christ’s heart and leading. Snuggle close—closer yet, my children—that your arms may grow used to this loving. Another kiss from mother? Blessed Ones! A billion more, for nights and mornings, for all day long of all the years, waiting here on mother’s lips. And now to sleep. Christmas is to-morrow. Hush! To-morrow. Yes; to-morrow. Go t’ sleep! Go t’ sleep!" And upon the flying heels of Night—but still far over seas from the blustering white Northwest where Pattie Batch was waiting at Swamp’s End in the woods—the new Day, with jolly countenance, broad, rosy and delighted, was somewhere approaching, in a gale of childish laughter, blithely calling in its westward sweep to all Christian children

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