Listen to the AudioBook: Little Women; Or, Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy by Louisa May Alcott

LITTLE WOMEN

MEG, JO, BETH, AND AMY

LOUISA M. ALCOTT

Part First.

CHAPTER I. PLAYING PILGRIMS

“Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” grumbled Jo, flopping down upon the rug.

“How can we have any, when Papa won’t come home till next year, and he wrote that he had to spend his half-pay in getting something for us?” said Meg, mournfully, surveying her slim purse.

“And I’ve spent all my money on a birthday present for Mother,” added Beth, holding up a small, nicely folded paper.

“What did you get, Beth?” asked Jo, whose heart softened immediately, though her face was a little pinched from self-denial.

“I made it myself, and it took me so long, I haven’t any left for myself,” Beth answered, with a happy little sigh.

“What’s in it?” asked Amy, looking up from her drawing, where she was carefully shading a sketch of a vase.

“Don’t peek, Amy! It’s a surprise for Mother,” Beth whispered, hugging it close.

“Well, I haven’t any presents for anyone, not even myself,” Meg confessed with a little shudder. “And there’s no fun in Christmas without presents—none at all.”

“Bare stockings are bad enough, but empty pockets really won’t do,” said Jo, turning over on her stomach. “It’s dreadful to think we shan’t have anything for Mother, either, when she does so much for us.”

“You know the rules,” said a gentle voice from the doorway.

Mother stood there, in her old brown dressing-gown, with her hair slightly untidy, but her face glowing with a gentle, loving light that made the girls forget their troubles.

“What are the rules, dear Marmee?” asked Meg, jumping up to hug her.

“That we don’t have presents on Christmas, because there is no money to buy them with,” said Beth, quietly.

“That’s one rule, but not the most important one,” Mother said, smiling. “The other is, that we try to make this day a celebration of the day our Savior was born, by giving something of ourselves instead of things.”

“But Marmee, we always give you something,” said Jo.

“Yes, you do, my dears, and I cherish them more than any jewels,” Mother replied, coming in and taking her usual seat by the fire. “But this year, I want you to give each other a present, something you have made or earned, that shows you thought of the one you gave it to.”

The girls looked at each other. Jo’s face brightened.

“I can do that!” she exclaimed. “I can write a poem for Meg, and a story for Beth, and draw a picture for Amy!”

“I can give my slippers to you, Mother,” Beth offered shyly.

“And I can give my drawing to Jo,” Amy said, holding up her sketch.

“And I will give my only piece of ribbon to Meg for her hair,” Jo added, pulling a bright blue ribbon from her pocket.

Mother smiled, her eyes shining. “These are wonderful presents, my dears. But there is one more thing we must remember.”

“What is it, Marmee?” the four girls asked in a chorus, drawing close to the fire, Mother in the big chair, with Beth at her feet.

“We must remember that we are poor, and that many others are poorer than we are. We must think of those who have no Christmas at all.”

Jo sighed. “It’s hard to think of that when we are wishing for things ourselves.”

“It is hard, my little ones,” Mother agreed. “But that is why we play Pilgrims. We learn to deny ourselves so that we may better understand those who have nothing.”

CHAPTER II. A MERRY CHRISTMAS

The next morning, the house was filled with the smell of pine and woodsmoke. The girls woke early, rushing to see what surprises might be waiting, though they knew their situation.

Meg found a new pair of gloves, neatly darned. Jo found a book of poetry she had long wanted. Beth found a new apron, and Amy, a box of watercolors.

They rushed downstairs, eager to show their mother their own small gifts for her. Beth brought the slippers she had warmed by the fire, wrapping them carefully in a piece of muslin. Amy presented her drawing of a vase, which she had painstakingly colored. Jo gave her blue ribbon to Meg, and Meg gave Jo a carefully pressed four-leaf clover.

“These are the best presents I have ever received,” Mother said, holding them close.

Suddenly, a loud knock echoed through the house.

“Who can that be so early?” Father had sent word he would not be home until the New Year.

A strange young man stood at the door, looking eager and slightly out of breath.

“Is this the house of Mr. March?” he asked.

“It is, sir,” Mother replied. “But my husband is away.”

“I am Mr. Laurence’s servant. My master bids me invite you and your daughters to dine with him today. He knows you are having a quiet Christmas and wishes to share his own bounty with you.”

The girls gasped. Mr. Laurence was the rich gentleman who lived next door, and they rarely visited him.

“Tell Mr. Laurence we accept with grateful hearts,” Mother said, beaming.

The girls flew upstairs to dress in their best, their earlier disappointment forgotten. They helped each other fix their hair and make sure their dresses were neat.

“Oh, I wish I had something pretty to wear!” Meg lamented, looking at her thin, old dress.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Mother soothed. “Your beauty comes from your good heart, not your clothes.”

They arrived at the grand house next door, feeling a little nervous but very excited. The dining room was splendid, with a large turkey ready for carving.

Mr. Laurence, a kind old gentleman, welcomed them warmly. He had heard of their father’s absence and wanted to bring some cheer to their Christmas.

“I know you are used to a quiet celebration,” he said, “but today, you must be my girls. Eat heartily, and enjoy yourselves.”

The girls ate more than they had in months, marveling at the rich food and the elegant setting. Jo, especially, felt a pang of conscience when she remembered how she had grumbled about not having presents.

As they were leaving, Mr. Laurence pressed a basket filled with cakes, fruits, and mince pies into Mother’s hands.

“Please take this to your family, Mrs. March. It is far too much for one meal.”

The girls carried the basket home triumphantly, their hearts full of gratitude. They had a merry Christmas after all, thanks to the kindness of their neighbor and the good spirit they had tried to maintain.

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