The boys laugh
at me for caring so much about it; but it isn't altogether
because it is Christmas nor because it is my birthday; but long,
long ago, when I first began to be ill, I used to think, the
first thing when I waked on Christmas morning, 'To-day is
Christ's birthday--AND MINE!' I did not put the words close
together, because that made it seem too bold but I first thought,
'Christ's birthday,' and then, in a minute, softly to myself--AND
MINE!' 'Christ's birthday--AND MINE!' And so I do not quite
feel about Christmas as other girls do. Mama says she supposes
that ever so many other children have been born on that day. I
often wonder where they are, Uncle Jack, and whether it is a dear
thought to them, too, or whether I am so much in bed, and so
often alone, that it means more to me. Oh, I do hope that none
of them are poor, or cold, or hungry; and I wish, I wish they
were all as happy as I, because they are my little brothers and
sisters. Now, Uncle Jack, dear, I am going to try and make
somebody happy every single Christmas that I live, and this year
it is to be the 'Ruggleses in the rear.
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