The Little Mixer by Lily and Nicholas Scheren. There was no fault to be
found with the present itself. The trouble lay in the method of transportation.
This thought was definite enough in Hannah's mind, but she had to rely upon
a seven year old vocabulary for expression, and grown ups are notably dull of
comprehension. Even mothers don't always understand without being told exactly in so many words.
I didn't say the kimona wasn't nice, Mamma, explained Hannah. And
course cousin Carrie was all for good to send it to me. But Santa
Claus is going to bring Virginia one tomorrow night down the chimbly rose. Joseph
slipped the absurd little garment over her daughter's dainty lingerie frock and stood her on
a chair that she might view herself in the narrow mirror between the windows of
the living room. The child was as lovely as a flower, but Vanity
was still sound asleep in her soul, and she glanced indifferently at the reflection,
her body sagging with disappointment. It is just like those little Japanese girls
wear, her mother cried in that over enthusiastic adult tone, which warns a
child he is about to be the recipient of a gold brick. I am
sure Virginia's can't be any nicer than this one. But Mamma, Santa Claus
is going to bring her is down the chimney. Mine, her voice dropped
to a mournful key. Mine came through the door. But Darling, what
difference does it make? Just so you get it? Pity for her mother's
barren childhood shone in Hannah's soft black eyes. That's that's no way for presents
to come, she explained. Mamma, it's Christmas. It is hanuku.
Missus. Joseph replied firmly. Remember you are a Jewess, dear. I
can't never forget it, said the child, with a catch in her voice,
specially at Christmas. But Darling, the Jewish children have Honkah. It
comes about the same time as Christmas, ann amounts to the same thing.
Hannah shook her bronze curls. Honkkah is because the children of Israel took Jerusalem
and the Temple away from the bad people, she recited glibly. And you
say prayers and light candles eight days, and all your uncles and aunts and
cousins sends you things, but Sati Claus, he don't pay any attention to
Honikah. Christmas is just one day, and Santa Claus comes down to Chimbley
and brings things to all good children, except little Jews, because it is
the birthday of our Savior. Missus Joseph was silent so long that Hannah felt
that she had convinced her mother the superiority of the gentile Christmas over the Jewish
Honukkah. And she continued more in detail. And the children's kin folks just
give Santi Claus money and tell him what to buy, and he brings the
presents, and nobody asked to bother about it, Tim Hannah, Missus Joseph
interrupted coldly, who told you about the birthday of the Savior? Nellie Halleran
answered, Hannah, and Virginia too. They've got the same one, the
same what the same savior? Hannah explained, Darling, hasn't Mama told you
many times that you must never never talk about religion to Nelly and Virginia.
Oh, we don't, Mama, never never. But of course we got
to talk about Santi Claus and things there seemed to be no reasonable objection to
that, so Missus Joseph dropped the subject. She spent a great deal of
time folding the despised and rejected kimono into its tissue paper wrappings. Presently,
she brought a narrow parcel from another room. See what Uncle Aaron has sent
you, dear, she cried, gaily, a little man. You whind
him up in the back with his key, so and then he dances and
plays the fiddle. Hannah forced a polite giggle man's antics. He too,
rested under the ban of having come through the door, and her attention soon
wandered. Nellie got a jumping jacket very top of her stocking last Christmas,
because she's such a jumping jack herself. Or Papa said, you know,
Mama, Santa Claus puts nuts and candy and the little things in your stocking.
He puts your big things all around the room. Sometimes he brings a
tree and hangs them all on the tree. Virginia and Nellie wanted a tree
and a new doll. Virginia gets a new doll every Christmas, and she
got every doll Santi ever brought her, even her little baby rubber doll.
She's eight years old, and we'll have eight dolls. But Nellie ain't hasn't
saved a single one, and she's scared she won't get one this Christmas.
Off scared? Why, dear, asked Missus Joseph, when Hannah paused for
breath, Because the doll Santi brought Nellie last Christmas? You know what?
She was playing Indian with a brother one day and chopped her head off.
And Nellie's mama said, she don't know whether old Santie's going to forget that
or not. But Nellie, she says, she prays hard to the Virgin
Mary every night if she don't go to sleep too quick. Mama, what's
a virgin? Mama? What's a virgin? Is a lady who has never
been married, answered Missus Joseph, putting the neglected musician back into his box.
Anna wrestled alone for a moment with a mighty ecclesiastical problem, and then
gave it up. The Virgin Mary is God's mother. Hannah continued, that's
her picture over our fireplace, pointing to a copy of a Crewe thirteenth century
Madonna and child in a carved Gothic frame, which Eli and rose Joseph had
bought in Italy while on their wedding trip. Flanked now by candles burning and
silver candelabra in honor of Hanukkah. It gave the mantle a passing resemblance to
a Catholic shrine. I don't think God's mother is very pretty, do you,
Mama? And I think Nellie's little brother is a heap prettier in God.
When he was the baby, Missus Joseph showed signs of having reached the
limit. Hannah, she said firmly, It is time you were in bed,
But Papa hasn't come home yet. Papa will be late tonight. Here
the Christmas rush side, Hannah. Mama, you haven't looked down my throat
today, she added, Playing for time, Missus Joseph went through the daily
ritual. It looks all right, she pronounced. It is all right.
Came the triumphant answer. It is never going to be sore again, Virginia
says. Never mind what Virginia says. If your throat ever hurts you the
least little bit, you are to come to me instantly and tell me.
Do you understand, Yes, Mama, But it isn't going to hurt anymore,
Hannah insisted come on upstairs to bed. Still, Hannah hung back.
She had not played her trump card yet, and the time was short.
She caught her mother's slim, white hand in hers and fingered nervously at the
rings. Mama, she almost whispered, Virginia says, it's Jewish mama's fault
that santi Claus don't come to see Jewish children. If the mamas would just
go to santi and tell him to come, you will, won't you,
Mama? Please, Mama, Hannah, not another word about Christmas and santi
Claus. Not another word. Hannah swallowed something that came in her throat and
bravely winked back tears. Cat Mandy put me to bed, No, dear
Mandy is busy in the kitchen. Mama will put you to bed and tell
you stories. She bent down and kissed the child tenderly. Hannah flung her
arms about her mother's neck. She loved the feel of the soft throat and
the gently curving bosom against her little cheek, and the fragrance of her mother's
hair and silken laces. She didn't know that her mother looked like a portrait
by Raphael. But she did know that her mama was the prettiest, sweetest
mama in all the world. And yet, Mama, I'm so tired of
stories about the children of Israel. They never did anything funny. Mandy tells
me tales about the old Plantashun when her mom was a slave, and old
Mars and old Miz going to town and giving Santa Claus money so as he'd
bring beads and juice, harps and things to the little niggers, and he
never forgot one, from the biggest to the littlest darkie. Santa didn't.
The child's body began to tremble with repressed sobs. I wished I was a
little darkie. It's awful sad to be a little Jewish child at Christmas time.
And then the storm broke. Two hours later, Eli Joseph's tired step
sounded on the verandah, and Rose hurried to admit him, lifting a silencing
hand. As soon as he crossed the threshold. Hannah has just gone to
sleep, she whispered. No, no, she's not sick at all.
He placed an arm around her and drew her into the library. Eli,
your overcoat is what she exclaimed, untwining her arms from his neck snow,
he said, his good looking, boyish face lighting up with pleasure. Seems
we are to have a white Christmas after all Christmas, she cried. I
wish I could never hear that word again. Well, I'm glad it only
comes once a year. Tonight ends my siege, though tomorrow night Stein goes
on duty and I come home for dinner to stay. Rose, darling,
you look all tired out. You shouldn't wait up for me. It isn't
that. It's Hannah. She cried for more than an hour to night.
And but for Mandy and her tails, I believe she would still be crying.
And she detailed the scene to him. But good gracious Rose, let
Santa Claus bring her presents to her, said Eli, when she had finished.
Hannah's nothing but a baby. She is beginning to think for herself,
as you did at a very early age, he reminded her. And your
father, the strictest of Orthodox rabbis, how old were you when you began
slipping off to the reform temple. I broke my father's heart, she said,
somberly. I'll be punished through Hannah, not unless you let Hannah think
faster than you do. And remember, he added teasingly, if you hadn't
run off to the reform temple, you would never have met me outside.
At the foot of the steps, she recalled, I would never have met
you inside. Maybe I'm a lax, he acknowledged. But it seems to
me that if you are living a decent life yourself giving the other fellow a
square deal, you are pretty nearly fulfilling the law and the prophets. And
what do you suppose is happening to Hannah with a Christian science family on one
side and Roman Catholics on the other, she demanded. Tragically, She's decided
not to take any more medicine because Virginia Lawrence doesn't. She has Nellie Hallaeranz
every expression about the Virgin and the Savior. Not only that, but she
has made friends with a Christian Science practitioner through the Lawrences and calls him my
friend, mister Jackson. She runs to meet him and walks the length of
the block with him every time he passes. Hannah is certainly a natural born
mixer, laughed the father. We are saving ourselves trouble by giving her the
best there is to mix with. Eli I am afraid we have made a
mistake moving out here away from all her people. No, we didn't make
a mistake, he declared earnestly. The square was no place to bring up
Hannah among those partn of Jews. We have the prettiest home on the heights
and the best people in town for our neighbors. Our child is losing her
identity as a Jewish. Let her find it again as an American, he
replied frankly. Rose, I don't lose any sleep over trying to keep my
identity is a Jew intact. If the Jew doesn't like it here, let
him go back to Palestine, or does the country that oppressed him. I
say, I've got the same amount of patience with these hyphenated Americans as I
have with the Jews who try to segregate themselves and dot the map with new
Jerusalems. Where's the scents? And throwing yourself into the melting pot, glad
at the chance, and then kicking because you come out something different. Come
on to be dear. You are as pale as a ghost, and I'm
so tired I can't see straight. Our baby is all right, don't you
worry. Snowfalls on the just and the unjust. There was quite as much
of it and Hannah's backyard as in either Virginia's or Nelly's. Perhaps even a
little more had drifted into the fence corners. Hannah's joy in discovering that in
this respect she had not been slighted crowded her troubles into the background. Immediately
after breakfast, bundled up snugly, she stood in her yard and threw snowballs
toward her neighbors homes while she squealed with delight. In a very few minutes,
three little girls were playing where only one had played before. Newcomers,
Virginia Lawrence and Nellie Halleran, presented an interesting contrast. Virginia, slim and
tall for her age, with long, flat yellow braids, handled the snow
daintily, even gingerly. Nellie, fat and dimpled her curls, tousled into
a flame colored halo, rolled over and over in the snow, and then
shook herself like a puppy. Until the advent of Hannah, a subtle antagonism
that existed between the two children, Virginia's favorite game was playing a lady with
a train floating gracefully behind her. Nellie's cheap joy and life was seeing how
long she could stand on her head, her short skirts of band laws of
gravity. All the while, Hannah, however, vibrated obligingly between the two
sports and kept the peace and violin romping in the snow was hard play,
and presently the little girl sat panting on the top step of the Joseph's back
porch. Immediately, Nellie produced a string of amistice colored beads from her coat
pocket with the announcement that she would say her prayers while resting. What kind
of beads are those? Asked Hannah, rosary beats, course, responded Nelly,
Hannah, you don't know anything. I do too, But you don't
even know about the Mother of God. Until I told you, I reckon,
I thought God was an orphan, Hannah pleaded in extenuation. But what
about God's papa, she demanded, his sudden inspiration. You're so smarty,
tell me about that. Oh, God didn't have to have a father,
Nelly answered, easily. Everything is free in heaven, so he didn't have
to have a father to work for him when he was little. Then why
did he have to have a mama to tell him what to do? Of
course, do you know how'tis? If you ask your papa anything,
don't he always say go ask your mama? Anne, I had noticed this
shifting of masculine responsibility more than once. That's so she acquiesced, and then
a terrible thought struck her. I don't want to go to heaven. I
don't want to go anywhere unless my papa can go too. Nellie's nimble,
irish wits were ready. I just said God didn't need any papa. Of
course, our papas will go to heaven because that's the only place they can
quit working. Didn't I hear my papa say one time he hoped he'd get
a little rest in heaven because he never got any on this earth. But
you have to die before you get to heaven side Hannah Virginia, who had
maintained a most dignified silence, looked as if she must speak or explode.
No, you don't. Heaven begins here and now, she recided, And
if you were good, you are well and happy, and that's heaven.
Tisn't scoff Nellie? Do you see any angels fly around in this here yard?
I don't. Hannah rather took to Virginia's argument and resolved to have conversation
with her sometime, Undampened by Nellie's skepticism, if there could be feasting on
the joys of heaven here and now, Hannah had every intention of being at
banquet table at the present moment. However, the rosary beads were a fascinating
interest. She must hold them in her own hands and watch the play of
purple lights upon the snow as she flashed them in the sun. Questions about
the crucifix she found brought on an embarrassing silence. Nellie looked at Virginia.
Virginia looked at Nelly. Then the two excused themselves for a whispered colloquy at
the other end of the yard. When they returned, Virginia acted as spokesman,
fixing Nelly with an unrelenting eye. That is, Jesus nailed to the
cross, Hannah, some very wicked people did it. There was nothing exciting
in this to Hannah. Wicked people were doing wicked things the world over all
the time. The statement fell flat, and Nelly, disappointed at the lack
of dramatic effect, broke treaty. I spect the Jews did it? She
said they did not. Hannah's voice trembled. The Jews are nice people.
They wouldn't a wicked thing like that. Virginia put an arm across Hannah's shoulders.
Now see what you've done, she snapped at Nelly. Oh I spect
the Irish helped him. Nelly added magnanimously. My papa, says the Irish.
You're into everything, not having to bear the ignominy alone. Hannah was
comforted. What makes you say prayers on the beach, she asked, because
I want Sante to bring me a doll tonight. I wrote him about sixteen
letters, and I'm going to say my Rosary a dozen times today tomorrow was
Christmas Day. Anna's face fell, all her sorrows returned with a rush.
Have you got any more of those beach he asked, yes, but they
wouldn't do you any good. Nelly answered, with quick understanding. You're not
a Catholic. Couldn't I be one? Not unless you're baptized with Hollywood the
priest does it? The levin had begun to work. What did your mama
say about asking Santa Claus to come? Virginny inquired, with a quick glance
toward the beads. Hannah shook her head speechless. She pressed her lips into
a tight line with an effort at self control, but two large tears rolled
down her cheeks and splashed on her scarlet coat. Again, Virginia placed an
arm protectingly across Hannah's shoulders. Nellie's bright blue eyes grew soft with pity.
I tell you what, she exclaimed. I'll baptize Hannah. Then she'll be
a gentile, and Santa Claus will come no matter what. And when your
mama sees how nice it is, she won't care. But you said a
priest has to baptize anybody, objected at Virginia. He does less. It's
a time of danger, and you can't get any priest than any Catholic can
baptize anybody. My mama baptized our washerwoman's little baby because they knew it was
going to die before Father Murphy could get there. It ain't this a time
of danger. Nobody's dying. Virginia was distressingly literal. Hannah looked from one
friend to the other, hoping against hope. No, but there's danger.
Santa Claus won't come to see Hannah lest something is done mighty quick came Nellie's
ready reply, and can't we get a priest? You go get one,
Virginia, go get one. Clearly there was no answer to this. The
ceremony was set for early afternoon, when grandmother Haloran took her nap and Nellie
could borrow the bottle of holy water from her shelf. As to the place,
there were six boys at the Halaranes always in the way, Missus Lawrence
had guessed. Obviously the baptismal wright would have to be performed at Hannah's house.
After lunch, the children assembled in the sun parlor of the Joseph's home,
in full view of Missus Joseph, who sat embroidering in the library.
The French door closed between them so that she could not hear. Nellie had
secured the bottle of holy water and arrayed in her brother Joe's long black raincoat,
a towel about her neck for a stole. Acted as priest. Virginia,
not to be left out of such an important affair, consented to be
godmother in lieu of a prayer. Manuel Nelly used one of Hannah's story books.
She chose a verse, which, because she knew it by heart,
she could read exceptionally well, little boy Blue, come blow your horn.
The sheep are in the metal and the cows are in the corn. Then
she poured a little of the holy water on Hannah's forehead wet hair might occasion
unanswerable questions, and baptized her. Hannah agnes Anaceus Joseph called upon for a
response. The Godmother recited very impressively the scientific statement of being as found in
the Christian Science textbook, and Hannah was pronounced a Gentile and a Catholic.
One thing more remained to be done. Hannah ran to her mother, cheeks
aglow, Mama, may I trade my stripe ball to Nelly for some beads.
Why, of course, darling, if you wish, the exchange was
made. In some time was spent in mastering the use of the rosary.
All three of the children knew that our father, though there were some difference
of opinion as to debts and trespasses, which is apt to hold in all
mixed congregations. The Hail Mary proved a bit difficult for Hannah, and she
fondly abandoned it. I'll say, Hero Israel, the Lord, our God,
the Lord is one, she said. I already know that, And
a prayer is a prayer, isn't it. Nellie refilled the holy water bottle
from a kitchen hydrant and hurried home to replace it before her grandmother should awaken.
Hannah spent the next hour life flat on her stomach, printing letters,
appealing to Virginia from time to time for aid as to the spelling. Virginia
being a very superior speller. Missus Joseph was busy with callers. When Virginia
went home and Hannah was left to her own devices. Suddenly she thought of
one stone that had been left unturned. There was her friend, mister Jahs,
to whom the Lawrence has always appealed in times of stress. She knew
the formula, She knew his number were on the list by the Lawrence's telephone.
His name, like Abubin Adams, led all the rest Maine one,
two, three four. It was easy to counting. She slipped into the
telephone closet and closed the door. There was no trouble with Hannah that night.
She went to bed early and didn't care to have any stories told.
She could go to sleep by herself. Quite a change of heariday Eli commented
at the Rose as they sat by the living room fire after telling their little
girl good night. She's been like that all day, playing as happily as
you please. Rose responded, I suppose she got it all out of her
system and last night's seen Eli drummed abstractedly on the arm of his chair.
I don't feel quite right about it, even so, he said, maybe
you will think me inconsistent, She confessed, blushing. Hannah was so indifferent
about the present center for Hanukkah. I only showed her too. I've save
the others to give her Christmas Day so she will have something of her own
to show when the other children bring theirs over. Eli didn't seem any too
pleased. Poor little mite, he murmured, Yes, Missus Joseph, it
was Bridget Hallanan's old family servant, calling softly from the hall. I'll be
after taking the prisons he stored away for us. I'll have him on the
back porch and carry him over when the children are all asleep. Nellie's in
bed like a little angel, bless her heart. But them divilish boys do
be a snoop and in every crack and corner, Missus Joseph unlocked a closet
under the stairs and loaded Bridget's arms with heavy and bulky parcels. Sureantis,
a sad Christmas will be having, saying the children. Mister timmy him.
That's old missus haller NaN's youngest but old enough to know better. He upped
and runs away today. And Mary's a Protestant girl. And if you open
your window the bit have a crack, you'll hear the poor old lady this
minute. Well, and like a banshee. But mister Timothy is such a
nice young man. He must have married a lovely girl, Bridget, said
Rose. Sure, and that may be, but she is a Protestant,
Missus Joseph. She runs away from her folks, and he runs away from
his, and they get married by the justice of peace. And no peace
will come a such thing, Lord, and mercy on their souls, Oh,
poor Grandma Hollernan, poor lovers, said Eli. When Bridget had gone,
I'll wager they had the very deuce of a time with both sides.
No sooner had they settled themselves again than the door knocker sounded, Eli,
admitted mister Jackson, the Christian science practitioner. I have only a minute,
he said, I just dropped by to leave a doll my wife dressed for
your little girl. She chose one that we thought looked like Hannah. Oh
but this is kind of you, Rose looked her gratitude. Missus Laurence has
told me how busy both you and your wife always are, and to take
time to think of our little girl. I had intended to give it to
her myself, mister Jackson continued, but after her talk with me to day,
I decided she would enjoy it more if I asked Santa Claus to bring
it. His eyes twinkled reminiscently. She called me up by telephone and asked
me to give Santa Claus a treatment. She seemed to think that he would
pass her by. I could assure her that he wouldn't, as I had
already seen the doll. Hannah is a wonderful child, we think, so,
smiled Eli. I'm sure we thank you and wish you the very merriest
Christmas. Anne, it will be a happy Christmas for me, he answered,
I'm going to the station to meet my father and mother. Some years
ago. They felt a strange for me. Bear, both staunch Presbyterians of
the Old School, and it nearly broke their hearts when I went into Christian
Science work. But they are beginning to look more tolerantly upon my calling,
and they are on their way now to spend Christmas with us. You can
guess how happy that makes me. Peace on earth, goodwill to men.
It is a wonder working thought, it is, indeed, Eli agreed heartily.
When the door had closed upon their visitor, Rose and Eli stood staring
at each other rather foolishly. She was the first to speak, is there
no end to the fight between the old and the new generation? We're just
beginning the scrap with our new generation, he said. She called him up
and asked for Christian Science help. I wonder what else the little monkey has
been up to. They soon found out, carrying the doll mister Jackson had
brought. Rose tiptoed after Eli into the nursery and gradually turned on the light.
The first object to meet their eyes was Hannah Stocking, hanging precariously to
a pin driven into the mantle. Pinned to the wall were several message,
neatly printed in pencil, which told her own tale. Dear Santie, Nellie
baptized me holy water, Hannah, Dear Santie I want things in my stocking.
Hannah, Dear Santa Claus, I'm a gentile Nellie baptized me. I'm
a gentile Catholic c s Hannah, Dear Santi, bring me any nice things
you got left would love? Hannah, Dear Santie, don't let my mama
and papa get mad about you, Hannah. Eli began to chortle, and
Hannah stirred in her sleep, throwing both chubby arms over her head, clutched
tightly in her left hand. They saw a rosary of Amesist colored beads.
Rose snapped off the light and pushed Eli out into the hall. He sat
down on the stairs and laughed until he cried. The dog gone a little
mixer, He chuckled a gentile Catholic Christian scientist as she if she has ever
happened to hear anything about Mahomet, believe me. She's sleeping with her feet
toward Mecca right now. Rose was weeping silently over the little message, don't
let my mamma and my papa get mad bout you. She touched her husband
on the shoulder. Eli, what shall we do about it? Do?
He stood up and set his jaw determinedly. You spoke just now, the
fight between the old and the new generations. Do you see what we are
coming to? If we don't conceal our child her legitimate rights, she will
seek them out and take them by force, and never forgive us for withholding
them. That's what every child who has ever heard of Santa Claus has a
right to enjoy. The men didn't I give a hundred dollars to the elks
and a hundred dollars to the big brothers who were looking after the empty stockings
of the poor children, while my own baby he'd reached the bedroom door and
was kicking off his house slippers. Eli, where are you going down town
to see Santa Claus? As if I have to break open a dozen stores,
he answered determinedly. It seemed that Santa Claus, never having visited Hannah
before, had a mind to make up for lost time. An overflowing stocking
hung from the mantel, the tree loaded with presents and tinsels stood by her
bed without the room or placed large gifts everything a little girl might wish for.
Anna was dazed. She didn't see her mother and father standing in the
doorway of the nursery. Their arms about each other and smiling. She tugged
at her window until it opened, and then called to Nellie across the intervening
space. He came, He came, She screamed, as a tossle of
flame colored head showed at the window opposite Anna, brushed by her parents,
and running to the window near his Virginia's room, repeated her message. Then
she came back into the nursery, still oblivious of mother and father, and
stared about in her ecstasy. Vaccasion called for some expression of thanksgiving. What
could it be? The seven year old child hasn't words for such a big
emotion. She could think of but one thing to do. Reverently, bowing
her little bronze head, she made the sign of the Cross upside down and
of the Little Mixer by Lillian Nicholson. Sheeran