The best, 'blest' Christmas morning

Sara Hoagland Hunter

Christmas was not going well. Susan had not received any of the gifts she wanted. Instead of the radio she had wished for, a babyish, metal sled, called a "Sno Wing," greeted her under the tree. There wasn't even any snow this year—just frozen, brown mud. Worse yet, her younger sisters and brother had each received exactly what they wanted and were playing happily.

An unpleasant jealousy crept over her as her sister bounced across the family room on her shiny, new pogo stick. She felt like reaching out her foot and tripping her.

"Susan," called her mother, "is anything wrong?"

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