On Christmas morning, the March sisters awoke early because they wanted to surprise Mother with their gifts. Jo reached under the bed and pulled out a wooden box where the gifts for Mother were hidden.
"I hope Mother likes this," said Jo. She held up a wrapped parcel close to her heart. Jo had penned a poem just for Mother.
Beth fingered her gift to Mother: two handkerchiefs with daisies. She had spent all night making them. Although some of the daisies looked like uneven yellow spots, Beth hoped Mother would love them.
"Smell how lovely that is." Amy pressed a small box under Meg's nose.
"Did you get lavender? It's Mother's favorite," Meg said knowingly.
Amy had used her savings to buy a bottle of cologne for Mother.
"Of course it's lavender, though my personal preference is roses," said Amy.
"Meg, where is your gift?" Jo lifted the wooden box and shook it hard.
"Oh, I have it here," said Meg. From her pocket she pulled out a bundle wrapped in a silk handkerchief. Inside was a pair of white silk gloves.
Jo squeezed Meg's hand. She knew that Meg had saved her hard earned money to purchase those special gloves.
"They will fit Mother's hands perfectly," Meg said as she lovingly placed them inside the box.
The girls crept quietly downstairs to the living room.
Mother usually reclined in her chair sipping her coffee before the girls scurried in for breakfast. So, in order to surprise her, the girls tiptoed across the hall and stood quietly outside the living room entrance. Amy had a fit of giggles.
"Shh!" Jo hissed at her.
"Girls, on the count of three," Meg whispered. "One, two . . . THREE!"
The girls flew into the room and shouted simultaneously: "Surprise, Mother! Merry—!"
But before they could finish their greeting, the girls noticed Mother's chair was unoccupied. Instead Hannah had just strolled in with a tray full of cakes.
"Ah!" Hannah screamed as she almost flipped the tray over.
Meg ran over to help their beloved housekeeper.
"Oh, girls!" Amy clasped her hands, her eyes growing big as she looked at the dining room table.
The table was covered with heaps of food. There were sausages, eggs, fresh juice and butter, and cakes adorned each corner.
"Your Ma wanted to surprise you girls with a Christmas feast," said Hannah, still clutching her chest and breathing deeply.
The girls were so touched by their mother's loving act.
"But where is she?" asked Jo.
Before Hannah could answer, Mother walked in through the front door.
"Good morning, my darling girls!" Mother opened her arms wide to embrace her daughters.
"Where did you go, Mother?" Meg asked.
"I went to see the Hummels," replied Mother.
The Hummels were a very poor family with many small children. Mr. Hummel had been drafted into the army, leaving his pregnant wife and six small children to fend for themselves. Since Mother worked as a volunteer to help unfortunate people in the community, she knew the Hummels' situation very well.
"How are the children?" asked Beth gently.
"Not very good, I'm afraid," Mother answered gravely. "They have no heating or . . . food." Her voice trailed off as she looked at the feast on the table.
The girls knew what Mother was thinking, but except for Beth, the other girls were reluctant to part with their Christmas meal.
Meg reasoned to herself: "We don't get any gifts. We should at least get a decent Christmas meal."
Jo was thinking: "I'm starving! And those sausages look so appetizing!"
Amy contemplated: "Maybe we can eat first then give the rest away to the Hummels."
Mother smiled at them as if she could discern their very thoughts. But she said kindly: "I just want to say that this meal is a gift from me and Hannah to you. However you want to use your gift is entirely up to you. I will love and respect you whatever you decide."
Meg spoke first. "Mother, the girls and I would be honored if the Hummels could enjoy this lovely meal."
Jo and Beth nodded in agreement. A moment or two later, Amy nodded too.
"My girls, I am so proud of you," Mother said.
"Let's all go together to visit the Hummels," suggested Beth.
So the girls sprinted upstairs to change their clothes.
Within a few minutes, the food was all wrapped up and ready to go. The girls got into their boots and coats and ventured out. Each of them carried large baskets filled with food.
As the Hummels did not have any heating, Jo hauled a sack of wood as well. None of the girls felt regret or resentment. Deep in their hearts, they knew the Hummels would relish the meal much more than they would.
As they passed the old mansion next to their house, Jo happened to look up. From the third floor, a dark-haired boy peered down at them as they trudged along.
"Look! There's old Mr. Laurence's grandson!" Jo called out to her sisters.
"Jo!" reprimanded Meg. "Stop staring at him. It isn't proper for a young girl to stare at a boy!"
"Don't be such a granny, Meg," snorted Jo. Since both her hands were full, she lifted up her foot and wiggled it at him as an alternative to waving.
"Jo! You're so shameless!" said Amy in rebuke.
From the window the boy also lifted his foot and wiggled it at Jo. Jo let out a loud, hearty laugh.
No words could describe how grateful the Hummel family was for the generous gift. Jo expertly got a fire going in no time while Meg and Amy set up the table and filled it with food. Beth and Mother took care of the sick children.
"Did you see how happy those children were?" Amy said, as the girls walked back home, her footsteps light and perky.
"Mrs. Hummel could not stop crying," remarked Jo. "I felt so sorry for her."
"Hopefully Mr. Hummel will be able to return home soon," said Mother.
Silently, all the girls prayed for their father to do the same.
As the girls got nearer to their house, something made them stop.
"Is that our house?" asked Amy.
"Well, I think so, but it looks different somehow," replied Meg.
There was a warm glow to the house as if each room was emitting heat.
"What if the house is on fire?" Jo shouted.
She tore across the field, her hair flying out of its bun, and threw open the door.
What a sight to behold! The entire house was cozily warm, a fire burning brightly in each fireplace. The bare dining room table was once again crowded with all sorts of delights.
"Hannah! What is this?" Mother demanded to know.
Choking back tears, Hannah could produce no reply but simply pointed to the mansion next door.
"You mean Mr. Laurence sent this?" asked Mother.
Hannah nodded, overcome by a fresh wave of tears.
"Here's a card!" Jo waved a small piece of paper in the air: Dear Mrs. March and all her lovely daughters, Jo read: My grandson and I would like to give a gift to you as you so generously give to others. Your neighbor, Mr. Laurence.
The girls all grabbed hands and started to dance around the table. Never had they been so surprised.
"You see, girls," Mother said happily. "When you think of others, others are also thinking of you."