Christmas Comes to Miz Cricket
“Christmas comes but once a year,” said Mr. Fuddle to his neighbor Mrs. McGillicuddy.
“And you have a lovely Christmas tree this year, Mr. Fuddle,” she said. “Jeremiah, please don’t touch!” she warned her son as he wandered over to the tree.
Miz Cricket hopped out of her home on the hearth. Just what was this Christmas thing all about?
She leaped onto Mr. Fuddle’s footstool. Something red caught her eye. Strings of red berries hung on the tree. Had Mr. Fuddle put them there just for her?
“Thank you for my book, Mrs. McGillicuddy,” said Mr. Fuddle. “And here are my gifts for you and … oh, my! I know I had something for Jeremiah, too. Somewhere.”
He scratched his head. “Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying goes.”
“That’s all right, Mr. Fuddle,” said Mrs. McGillicuddy. “I believe in what you always say: It is better to give than to receive.”
“Well, now, if you’ll stay for tea and crumpets, I’m sure I’ll remember where I put Jeremiah’s gift,” said Mr. Fuddle, and he put on his kettle for tea.
Miz Cricket leaped onto a branch and nibbled at a berry. She saw another string with white crunchy things and nibbled at them. Leaping and tasting, she went from cranberry string to popcorn string.
Suddenly Miz Cricket spied a large round cookie with red and green sprinkles. It was tied to the tree branch with a shiny red ribbon. At that very moment, she saw Jeremiah’s hand sneaking up toward it.
“Jeremiah, don’t touch!” his mother called.
The
boy’s hand disappeared. But slowly it began reaching
up for the cookie again.
“That’s Mr. Fuddle’s cookie,” thought Miz Cricket, stamping her six feet. What was she to do?
“I must save it for him,” she thought. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as Mr. Fuddle would say.” She leaped onto the cookie and began to nibble at the ribbon that held the cookie to the branch.
She worked as fast as she could. If a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well, as Mr. Fuddle always said.
At last the ribbon parted. The cookie and Miz Cricket tumbled down, bounce! bounce! bounce! from branch to branch … and into Jeremiah’s hand!
“What did you do?” cried Mrs. McGillicuddy to her son.
“N-nothing,” said Jeremiah, staring at the cookie and Miz Cricket.
Miz Cricket gave a wobbly leap from the cookie onto the fireplace hearth. She shook her feelers. She had failed to save Mr. Fuddle’s cookie.
“Good things come to those who wait, Jeremiah,” said Mr. Fuddle as he came into the room. “Miz Cricket has found your Christmas gift.”
Later, after his neighbors had gone home, Mr. Fuddle sat finishing his tea and crumpets. Then he rose and put out a saucer on the hearth. “Sweets for the sweet,” he said.
“What
does that mean?” wondered Miz Cricket. She leaped to
the saucer for her usual crumpet crumbs. But there sat a
large round cookie with red and green sprinkles, just like
the one Mr. Fuddle had given to Jeremiah.
“Giving to each other,” thought Miz Cricket. “That’s what this Christmas thing is all about.” With a happy hop, she took a cricket-size nip of her Christmas gift from Mr. Fuddle.
