Speaker 1: 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