Christmas Ants by Kate gannett Wells. The possession of relatives at Christmas time is very desirable, provided they give you the things you want. For there are three factors in giving the gift itself, the personal regard of the giver and the appreciation of the one who receives. Appropriateness constitutes its charm, as to give without affection as a bore, and to receive from one you dislike is hideous. Now, Christmas ants as a link between parents who want to give something and acquaintances who need not seem to fulfill these conditions. Generally, they know what is wanted and have a pride in their young relations who are not unwilling to be grateful to them. It is character that makes the Christmas Aunt what she is. She may give you a bit of ribbon or a rope of pearls. In either case it is her way of giving which makes her Christmasy. She may be old fashioned or of the modern committee type of hustler, or of tea gown, grace and suavity, but through all the variation runs an adorable motherliness. This is it which made the power of Missus Mary a livermore and still creates the charm and resourcefulness of Missus Julia Ward. How even if a Christmas aunt advises, scolds, praises, or bosses her young people, she yet has an hereditary pride in them, for they belong to her side of the family. It is this belonging to somebody else besides your parents, which is so dear. The mere fact that parents ought to care for those whom they have brought into the world gives to ants an investor of free royalty. They care for you just because they need not. Even if ants have children of their own, they do not lose their prerogatives of grace to others. While the unmarried aunt ranks next to a grandmother in delightfulness. These old maids of our homes could have been married if they want it to be. Any man or woman can be of either wishes. The afterglow of tender romance always enshrines them. Though they may lead lonely lives. Their range extends from the poor woman whose home is her trunk to the wealthy lady whose house is a shelter for others. Yet both have in their hearts the Christmas feeling. Single life may often be best, but in regard to marriage. It is not the frequency of divorce that is the trouble, but the self love, inordinate self respect, and ambition of married life that most needs correction. Don't pity yourself, don't cherish vain imaginings. Don't expect to get more than one third of what you want, which usually is one half more than you deserve. Are as good rules for married as for single life. As civilization increases, people naturally will find more difficulty in getting suited to each other. As the spirit of religion grows, will ask more from themselves than from each other, and in that asking will find as much fullness of joy and of service in being single as in being married. Say that the true companionship of marriage with its children is a multiplied joy. Christmas aunts know all of this. One of them, a wealthy married woman, sent to her nephew who had a hard time to get along a check, saying, you do for me, I give to you. Doing and giving are like family ties. Another aunt of the penurious, unmarried type, sent to her niece a single carnation lying on a pair of garters she had knit. And the niece thought of the many solitary hours in which the yarn had been knitted, and of the many economies lovingly practiced by means of which the flower had been purchased. Still another aunt and a niece, to whom fortune had alike been kind, gave each other gifts of equal value. They were quits. Yet there is a certain phase of Christmas giving that is more sentimental than strengthening, the exchange of thoughts which are supposed to have either religious or literary value. Such expressions may soothe the nervous, or occupy the amateur, self conscious poser to herself of superficial culture. Yet such sentiments are very different from the praise of honest affection. But many of us have not yet got rid of the old notion that praise is dangerous. It may be when it is false, but when true, it is an incentive to further effort. It is so much better to praise another while she is living than after she has died. All the same, exchange of thoughts, literary or otherwise may be an invigorating process, and may those who enjoy it continue its pastime. But do not let the thoughts be tinged with self pity. For courage and common sense help us to bear the ills of life that beset us from one Christmas to another. We can never say too often how grateful we are for the Christmas fact. What would our daily life have been if the first Christmas had not been born? Keeping now the truth of that fact, we pour around it the service of our daily lives. Never too poor, too lonely, too sick to be useful to somebody. Thank God for his Christmas gift of lowly usefulness. Thanks to Him also for Christmas ants, for he has set the world in families. Yet the trouble is that, as we do not want Christmas to come but once a year, with all its array of presents to get and to be answered, which makes the day a heavy burden, we must carry along its spirit from month to month and hour to hour, in perpetual giving and receiving of service. Many persons already prefer to make their gifts spasmodic rather than annual, just because of the meaning of the day has become so desecrated by gregarious giving. Simplicity in all things is to be followed. Always. May the Christmas Aunt remain transfigured before us as one who gives not because she must, but because she loves to bring forth from her storehouses of invention and affection Gifts New and old. End of Christmas Ants by kate gannett Wells