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On Christmas Eve, the first in Baltimore for Annie and Little Bart, burning logs crackled merrily on the parlor hearth. The delicious aroma of chestnuts filled the room as the cook roasted them in the fire.
Bessie and Annie strung garlands of popcorn around a Christmas tree. Ardie patiently inserted string through gaily iced ginger cookies shaped like snowmen, angels, and sleighs. With flourishes, Little Bart passed the sugary ornaments to Nelle who tied them to the branches.
Afterward, Bessie spread a sheet beneath the tree for the crèche, and Annie opened a box and proceeded carefully to unwrap beautifully carved wooden figurines. Nelle sat in a large wing chair to read the Christmas story aloud while the boys took delight in setting up the Nativity scene.
When this was done, with everyone still listening raptly, Nelle gently closed the Bible and spoke to their upturned faces.
"We have much to pray over, my dears, and should not pass this holy evening in an excess of rejoicing. Let us be grateful first for our new family members..." - looking at Annie and Little Bart - "...and for those who have suffered infinitely less than they..." - looking at Ardie, Bessie, and the cook - "...and let us pray that our dear captain is safe wherever he may be tonight..." - with tears coursing down her cheeks - "...and now we ought to sing."
Nelle went to the upright rosewood piano and played, leading them through Christmas carols and hymns. Annie often sang alone when the others stopped to listen to her lovely voice. The boys could be counted on to hum off-key, no matter what.
Gathered about the piano, no one noticed the figure that appeared between the entryway portieres, but all heard the booming baritone voice that suddenly joined them. Her fingers poised to strike the next chord, Nelle's hands never fell.
"Philo!" she cried, jumping up from the stool and dashing to his open arms, Ardie running close behind.
Prudently, Annie held Little Bart back.
"You waits a bit, chile," she whispered. "We de new, dey the ol'. Miz Nelle an' Ardie don' see Mastah Angel Hair foh a long time b'foh we do. You waits."
Little Bart understood.
Philo hailed them above the clutter of arms embracing him. "Merry Christmas, Annie! Merry Christmas, Little Bart! Come! I've got presents for all!"
Everyone gathered around him chattering at once.
"The presents! The presents, Pa!" Ardie outshouted the rest.
Philo lifted his son for a loud, smacking kiss. "That's it, Ardie! That's all you get!"
The boy squirmed in his father's arms, wiping his wet cheek with a sleeve. "Aw, Pa, that's no present! You can't fool me! Come on, Pa, what'd you bring me?"
Setting him down, the captain made a great show of rummaging through the large bag at his feet. "Nothing here, son. I swear, I guess I forgot about you!"
Ardie grabbed him around the waist and squeezed. "You better find something, Pa, or I ain't gonna let you breathe! I'm gonna squeeze and squeeze!"
Philo lifted the hat from his brow. "What's this hiding on my head? Say, Ardie, will my new Burnside do?"
The boy clapped his hands with glee. "Oh, Pa, you got one for me, too! Thank you, Pa! I love you, Pa!"
Philo placed the Burnside on Ardie's head. Like Little Bart's, the hat hit his shoulders. The boy yanked it off and ran out of the room. "I'll stuff it with a towel!" he yelled from the hall.
For everyone, including Bessie and the cook, there was a gift - small, but thoughtful. For Little Bart, a folding whittle knife, "to make your next whistle, son." When he came to Annie, he presented a folded paper. She opened it slowly, then stood there, eyes downcast, looking ashamed.
Nelle came to her rescue. "Annie can't read. Those instructions you wrote for her did no good. Fortunately, her faith brought her to me."
She took the paper from Annie's hand. "May I read it for you, Annie?"
The mammy nodded shyly.
"Why, Annie, it's a letter from Abraham Lincoln!" Nelle exclaimed. "He commends you for your courage in seeking out Doctor Creel on the battlefield, and for your loving care of Little Bart. He writes that you represent for him a new America of free men and women working together to make our country great. Oh, Annie, you should be very proud!"
Annie looked at Philo, tears welling in her eyes. "I thanks you, Cap'n Duncan, from way down deep in mah heart. Merry Christmas, suh. I keeps dis letter all mah life."
"You're welcome, Annie," he smiled. "The President suggested it himself when I stopped to see him in Washington and told him your story. He will be very pleased that he's made you happy."
Ardie came back with his Burnside perched properly atop his head. Little Bart showed him the knife. Philo turned to Nelle. "You may wonder that I have neglected to give you anything thus far," he said. "It is now your turn." He stood back and struck the pose seen in his portrait on the wall.
"I've brought your loving husband home safely from the war," he announced. "I'm making you a present of me!"
Raising clasped hands to her breast, Nelle uttered a sigh of contentment. "I've won the best gift of all. Merry Christmas, love, and may we have many more."
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