Little Women

Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents, grumbled Joe, lying on the rug of a drafty New England parlor. She was 15, long-limbed and awkward, with the sharp, restless eyes of a young hawk and a tumble of thick chestnut hair that refused to stay pinned. Beside her sat Meg, 17 and very pretty, sighing at her worn hands. In the corner, 13-year-old Beth sat on her low stool, her face pale and dreaming, while Amy, the youngest at 12, tried very hard to draw like a grand lady. It was the winter of 1861, and the Civil War raged. The March family felt the cold bite of that war deeply. Their father was far away, serving as a chaplain to the Union soldiers, and their mother, Marmy, worked from dawn until dark to keep the household running. More than 150 years ago, Louisa May Alcott wrote Little Women, basing the characters on her own sisters. It remains a timeless story about growing up, the daily wars we wage against our worst habits, and what we must never trade away. On this Christmas Eve, the girls had only a single dollar each. At first they grumbled, wishing for books and ribbons, but looking at Marmy's worn slippers warming by the great, a wave of generosity washed over them. They decided, without a single whisper of regret, to spend their precious dollars on gifts for their mother instead. On Christmas morning, the girls found small colored guide books under their pillows, which they read with earnest hearts. Soon, Marmy returned with sad news of a poor neighbor, Mrs. Hummel, whose children were starving in a freezing room. She asked if they would give up their breakfast, a rare feast of buckwheat cakes, fresh bread, and cream. After a brief silence, Joe declared she was glad they hadn't eaten yet, and Beth begged to help. They marched through the biting snow, fed the hungry children, and returned to a simple meal of bread and hominy with the happiest hearts in the state. That evening, their kindness was rewarded. Their wealthy, gruff neighbor, old Mr. Lawrence, heard of their charity and sent over a magnificent surprise, a feast of ice cream, fresh fruit, and French bonbons. Soon, the two households began to mingle. At a New Year's Eve dance, Joe, who hated grand parties, hid in a quiet alcove to conceal a burn on the back of her dress. There, she found Laurie, Mr. Lawrence's grandson, also hiding. He was handsome and wealthy, but just as lonely as she was. "Don't mind me," Joe said, startled. Laurie laughed, a bright sound that broke the ice. "I don't mind at all," he replied. They spent the evening talking like old friends and dancing in the hallway where no one could see them. By the time the carriages arrived, a great enduring friendship had been born. While Joe found a brother in Laurie, quiet Beth found a friend in old Mr. Lawrence. Beth was too terrified of strangers to go to school, but she loved music passionately. Learning of this, the gruff old gentleman kindly let it be known that his grand piano was empty all day and needed playing. Gathering her courage, Beth began slipping into the mansion to play. In gratitude, she knitted him a pair of warm slippers. Mr. Lawrence was so moved by her spirit, for she reminded him of a granddaughter he had lost, that he sent a magnificent cabinet piano, polished until it shone, to the March house. When Beth saw it, she did the bravest thing she had ever done. She walked straight into the grand mansion, threw her arms around the old man's neck, and kissed his cheek. From that day on, the lonely old man and the quiet musical girl were the best of friends. As the seasons turned, each of the four sisters had to face the shadow of her own nature. For though they were good girls, they were not perfect. They had faults that grew alongside them, like weeds in a beautiful garden. Meg, the eldest, fought against vanity and envy. She loved beautiful things, and it pained her to wear faded dresses…

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