Once upon a Christmas Eve, just at the close of the day, a little gift box sat all alone in a window of a big city store. She was the neatest little box you ever saw, with bright red sides and a glittering green bottom, while pink satin ribbon all looped up in bows held her top on.
“I wonder,” sighed she, “if this beautiful string of mine will ever be untied. I wish I could see what is inside of me, for I have such a funny feeling here in my middle. If I could only tip over just a little and look out under my satin lining and see, I would know what makes me feel so strange.”
Now if this little gift box had not been so proud of her satin ribbon, no doubt she could have looked in before this and found out what made her feel so queer. As it was, she was tied so tightly with her big bows, she could not tip over. So there she had to stay and watch the pretty white snowflakes as they gently fell and fluttered down through the cold air to the ground, way down beyond her tree-strewn sight. She heard children laughing and singing out in the street and their merry voices made her feel happy too, for she had often been where little children were.
All at once her box bottom shivered up in the most surprising way and just had to jump out of the window over the deep snowdrifts beyond. The bows on her top got all loosened by this bouncing, which was a good thing, for you never could tell about these boxes after all, so she slipped her lid off just a-while before a big gust of wind blew her half way down the street. Slowly up popped some bright little toys of every description, a dog for a girl, a kitchen set for a little boy, some paper dolls, a nice teddy bear—now what more could you think of that children love.
“Now I am all ready to do something good,” said little Gifty the box to herself. “These nice toys have not come here to lie still and do only me good, but I see from the tailor shop just across the street, there is to be a children’s Christmas party. I will hop right over there and be all trimmed up in time; that is, if only Old Father Christmas will be kind to poor little me—“
Gifty was cut short here by a little boy seizing her up and running with her down the street. In just a moment more, right in the doorway of a great house, the box’s bottom went in, her top lid slipped on again and the satin ties all pulled tight again to make her look nice, for Gifty wanted Father Christmas to know how pleased she was that he had sent this boy with her. Yes indeed, she was right in time for the party, for when all the girls and boys were donned up in their hats and coats and had sang two or three good hymns, they were surprised to hear right in front of their eyes the man all dressed in red say these very words:
“To the children of the Workers’ Guild from Father Christmas, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.”
That was all: in one corner of the room, behold Gifty the box all tied up nicely with her pink bows. The children gave a great cheer, which turned into shouts of joy when they opened her up and saw the nice toys inside. But every toy felt glad just in the heart of them that they could make such little children happy; for nothing is quite so sad as being an unused gift. So they were all glad Gifty the box carried them and that each certain toy was sure they belonged at last to that one child’s hand whose happy laugh made music in their ears.
But when her little company waved good-bye to their owners and Gifty just as merry at her heart as the happiest child, somebody will be wondering what did she say when she saw the pretty Christmas tree hung with white icicles and therein red and white branches fifty kinds of other gifts of bigger make than she? When Gifty did glance within their sparkling nests, she was not surprised to find they were all dreaming of sweet things that boys and girls could eat. When with a side nod and a mysterious wave good souls will consider red candy canes stuck thickly on green trees just over armies of green Christmas trees.
Each gift had about as much bounce in it as Gifty, and as she and all her gift friends started off bright and early in the morning, they helped each other all along the way with merry shouts and constant cheering that made Gifty often think of little bells. The workmen of the guild were very happy and went off humming right merrily and the performance of their muddled worldly affairs was made up by the most heavenly singing of angels all up above that looked down loving and merry.