"…And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.

And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.

And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.

And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.

But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.

And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them."

All eyes in the Ingleside living room were focused on John Meredith as he continued to read from the second chapter of Luke. He had never felt so much weight from the eyes of a congregation before. For every adult there, it was far easier to listen to the Christmas Miracle and focus on that as well as the children around them than wonder what was going on in a certain room upstairs. The children only appeared confused, a small bit worried, yet generally content that as far as they were concerned, Christmas was occurring as planned.

They sat around Grandfather Meredith, gathered together in a little tribe. Even the littlest ones were quietly paying attention to the strong yet gentle voice read the sacred text. They were all behaving so well that the adults were taking comfort and trying to imitate them. They weren't aware that although the children were behaving so well, that little Gilbert Ford's heart was upstairs, wondering why no one would come downstairs to tell how his mother was. They didn't notice when his eyes would glance to the staircase where his father sat with his head in his hands, waiting, waiting for word, any word from anyone. Perhaps they were too focused on their own fears to truly notice anything.

Shirley Blythe looked to the delicate rose petal he had been fortunate enough for a year and a half to call, "wife" and "beloved." The green dress that she wore carefully hid the known fact that they expecting their first blessed event in late spring. Present circumstances caused him to become weary. He looked to Ken, and wouldn't have wanted to trade places with him for anything. It was difficult enough knowing that it was his baby sister going through whatever was happening.

Nan Meredith leaned her brown head on Jerry's shoulder while tightly holding onto her twin's hand. She was tired, and Jerry was becoming concerned that she was experiencing too much stress. He wished that Dr. Blythe, Jem, or Faith would come downstairs and tell them something so he could convince his wife to go with him to the manse and rest.

Jack Wright fidgeted in his seat. He had been in Ken's place not that long ago it seemed, and the result had been horrendous. His little girl, little Bertha Cordelia, didn't survive . It had been a miracle that Diana lived, though the grief almost killed her as well.

He shuddered at the memory of those dark days, and caressed the back of her neck. She seemed to know what he was thinking, and passed him a weary, worried smile. She looked down to the raven-headed Teddy and his sandy-blonde haired twin as they listened in awe as Mr. Meredith read. The loss of Bertha had been a terrible blow, but the birth of the twins had been a double miracle. She patted her own growing middle, praying that all of the children to be born to the family in the coming days, weeks, and months would be healthy little miracles.

Mr. Meredith finished reading the passage, and everyone kept silent. It was hardly the gay evening that had been planned. Then, a door upstairs opened and closed. Footsteps were heard coming down the hallway. Ken stood to meet Jem as he slowly walked downstairs. He was too afraid to speak, so his eyes asked all the questions that needed asked.

Jem took his brother in law's arm and pulled him to where everyone could hear. He didn't need to be away for very long and need to go through this only once. He looked to the children and said, "I think that it's late enough that all the girls and boys should be heading to bed, or Santa Clause will pass right over. I also discussed it with Rilla, and we think that it would be good for Gil and Grace to spend tonight with their Grandmother and Grandfather Ford and Persis because their mother isn't feeling very well this evening and needs to stay here where Dad and I can watch her."

"Jem, don't you also think that maybe Walt, John, Tenny, and Hope should spend the night somewhere else too?" His mother wisely asked.

Jem smiled weakly, knowing his mother read his mind. "Yes, actually. I think that it will be a great Christmas adventure. Does anyone have any suggestions?" he asked the grownups.

Persis whispered into Rosemary and Nan's ears then said, "Why don't the boys stay tonight at Hillwynd and the girls stay together tonight at the manse?"

Nan jumped in, "Why yes! It'll be like two great slumber parties!"

The children were all a little confused because they had intended to sleep in their own beds that night save Cecilia who was visiting at the manse. All of them were very perceptive young minds, and knew that this arrangement would make the grown-ups feel better.

"Why don't all of you get your coats on, and get ready to go, children. We'll be along shortly," Leslie Ford directed. Then when the children were out of the room, she looked to Jem and asked the question on everyone's mind. "How is Rilla, really?"

He ran his hand through his graying hair, "She is in labor. It is early, but not too early. It appears that things may be difficult. She's progressed enough that she doesn't need to be moved to the House of Dreams. We've a long night ahead of us upstairs. I must return shortly." He started to go upstairs, but turned to his mother and Mrs. Wright.

"It would be wise to begin boiling water and preparing towels. Also Ken," he was trying to give him something to do, "some ice chips would be nice for her. I do have to go back up now," and then he was taking the stairs two at a time like his father.

And so it was that the large company of Ingleside dispersed for the evening. The McGowans and their children went to their home and prayed. Mr. and Mrs. Marshall Elliot went home and prayed for "Dear Little Rilla." Even the Douglas family stayed on their knees a little longer than usual after they got home.

The oldest among the dear little souls directly related to Rilla were split up and sent to stay at either the manse or Hillwynd. The girls were carted off with the two Reverend Merediths and their wives to the manse, while the boys were taken to Hillwynd to stay with the Fords.

The girls all thought that this was a wonderful event, and couldn't wait to wake up together on Christmas morning with sweet Aunt Nan taking such good care of them. Hope in general, thought the arrangement was wonderful because Una lived at the manse.

However, Una didn't stay at the manse that night. She remained at Ingleside, waiting for any more word of Rilla, and waiting to see if she could lend a hand. It was something that she felt she had to do. Motherhood had always been her greatest ambition. It was a role that many thought very little of and didn't live up to. It seemed that now one of the best friends she ever had could lose her life to it, and this knowledge kept her close. Carl stayed to give her a ride when she was ready to leave.

The boys were rather indifferent to being shipped away for the night. Walt would have rather stayed at home, for there was no place like it. John missed having Mummy or Grandmother sing to him before bedtime. Persis or Mrs. Ford might have under normal circumstances, but at the moment their minds remained fixed on Ingleside.

Mr. Ford rocked in an old wooden rocker than had once belonged to the Schoolmaster's Bride in the middle of the great big old bedroom by a roaring fire. There, the boys were snuggly tucked into two beds. He remembered being young and hopeful on Christmas Eve. He also remembered a young boy that had once looked just like you Gil and wondered to where time flew. He saw the concern in his grandson's face and hoped a jolly story would give him a peaceful night's sleep.

"Alright there boys. You all settle down, and I will tell you a tale of a stingy old man in long ago London who was visited by three ghosts on Christmas Eve."

All four boys shuddered lightly, not ever imagining to hear a ghost story on such a holy night. By the time Owen Ford had finished the Tale of Ebenezer Scrooge, all four boys appeared to be soundly sleeping.

Gilly wasn't asleep, though. He had only closed his eyes to imagine what Grandpa Ford was saying with his ruffled velvet voice. No matter how hard he tried, the story didn't stop him from worrying about his poor little mother at Ingleside. When the boys were left alone, Gilly shook Tenny's little shoulder.

"Tenny, are you asleep yet?"

Tenny had been venturing into the lightest depths of sleep. He squinted his eyes and saw Gilly hanging over him in the firelight. "Not now, Gilly. What's wrong?"

"What was it like when your mother died?"

Tenny's gray eyes widened. "What?" he asked.

"Did you get to tell her goodbye?"

Tenny sat up and rubbed his eyes, realizing that Gilly needed to talk to him. He nodded his head. "She was sick and in the hospital for a very long time. Daddy and Grandfather Henry explained to us how she was going to Heaven, and the Hope and I got to spend time with her before it happened."

Gilly's questions didn't stop. "Does it hurt a lot not to have a mother?"

"Sometimes it does, sometimes not as much. It is hard sometimes when you're surrounded by people with their own mamas. I miss her voice and her smile. I miss the soft way that she would run her hand trough my hair and when she would tuck me in at night."

Gilly curled into a ball and admitted his dark fear to Tenny. "Tenny, I think that my mother is very sick."

"She'll be all right, Gilly," Tenny reassured his cousin.

"How do you know she will be okay, Tenny?" Your mummy didn't get better. Mine may not. "

"I know because my Mama didn't have Grandfather and Uncle Jem taking care of her. They're the best doctors in the world, Gilly. They'll take good care of Aunt Rilla. There's nothing to worry about. As Uncle Jerry always says, 'Have faith.' Now, let's go to sleep before Santa Clause comes."

The two little boys crawled back under the covers. Tenny was certain that all would be well and nodded right back to sleep. Gilly, however, couldn't shake the feeling that something was still not right. He lay awake for what seemed an eternity, listening to the soft breathing of Tenny, Walt, and John, and imagining all sorts of unbearable thoughts.

Suddenly Gilly knew that he could not bear it. He must go to Ingleside. Right awayat once. He must see Mother before she . . . before she . . . died.

Very quietly he slipped out of bed and put on his clothes, careful not to wake the other boys. He took his shoes in his hand. He did not know where Aunt Persis had put his coat and hat, but that did not matter. He must not make any noise . . . he must just escape and get to Mother. Through the dark hall . . . down the stairs . . . step by step . . . hold your breath . . . was there no end to the steps? . . . the very furniture was listening .

He heard the soft murmurs of Grandmother Leslie, Aunt Persis, and Grandfather Owen in the kitchen. He was very careful not to alarm them because they would only send him back up to bed. They would come rushing out . . . he wouldn't be let go to Mother, poor Mother who couldn't even go to her own home . . . a sob of despair choked in his throat as he thought of what could happen. He tiptoed down the stairs. There, he found his coat and hat and cautiously turned the handle of the front door.

Gilly was out . . . the door quietly closed behind him. He slipped on his coat and hat and stole down the street: Hillwynd was on the top of a long wooded hill, looking down on the Glen. A moment of panic overwhelmed him. The fear of being caught and prevented was past and now fears of darkness and solitude overwhelmed. He had never been out alone in the night before. He was afraid of the world. It was such a huge world and he was so terribly small in it. Even the cold raw wind that was coming up from the north seemed blowing in his face as if to push him back.

That was when he noticed something else. It had started to snow, heavily. In later years, it would be known as the Christmas with the biggest snowstorm since 1916.

The wind, the snow, and the blackness of the suddenly overcast night were fierce enemies, but nothing could keep Gilbert Ford from his destination. He could see Ingleside from Hillwynd. It seemed as if every window was lit. He followed that light, and he followed his heart.

One had to go on when Mother was going to die. Once he fell and bruised his knee badly on a stone. Once he heard a car coming along behind him and hid behind a tree till it passed, terrified lest Grandpa Owen had discovered he had gone and was coming after him. It was so dreadfully cold, and his little body was getting so wet from the snow. He had just been feeling that his legs would not carry him another step, but at the thought he marched on again. He was so cold now that he had almost ceased to feel afraid. Would he never get to Ingleside? It must be hours and hours since he had left Hillwynd.

Then finally, he was there, standing on the kitchen steps of Ingleside. He carefully turned the knob, thankfully it had been left unlocked in all the commotion.

All of the lights were on in Ingleside, but not a soul was in the kitchen. Little did he know that they were all upstairs paying attention to a miraculous event.

Perhaps everyone left after mother had died? Perhaps they had gone to the church to pray? He knew Mother was dead and everybody had gone away.

Gilly was by now too chilled and exhausted to cry. He walked into the great big living room, found a pillow and an afghan, and lay beside the fire. He only wanted to get somewhere out of that wind and snow and lie down till morning. Perhaps somebody would come back then after they had buried Mother.

He didn't want to sleep, but sleep wanted him. The warmth of the fire lulled him into a sleep. It wasn't a peaceful sleep, but sleep it was. A sleep so deep that he never heard any more of the commotion from everyone upstairs until the telephone rang about an hour later.

Persis Ford thought it was an eternity before someone at Ingleside had the sense to pick up the ringing telephone.

"Hello?" a voice called on the other end. It was Carl Meredith. She hadn't wanted to speak with him. She didn't know if she could talk to him, but she knew she had to put her own feelings aside. Her nephew needed her.

"Carl? This is Persis," she stopped when he interrupted her.

"Persis? I was just about to call you. I have amazing news!" Now it was her turn to interrupt him.

"You can tell me later Carl. You can tell me anything you want to. We do need to talk. Right now though, you have to know. Gilly has disappeared."

"What?" he exclaimed loud enough to wake the dead, or a dead tired little boy.

Her voice was shaking, he could hear it over the phone. "Father put all the boys to bed a few hours ago, and we thought that they were all here asleep. However, Mother just went in to check on them, and found that Gilly wasn't in the bed."

"Have you looked all over the house?" he asked.

She didn't have time for him to be condescending. He was always so condescending to her. Her sweet little nephew could be freezing out in a blizzard. "Don't you think that we know to look everywhere, Carl?"

All of this time, Carl had been standing with his right side facing where little Gilly was, so he couldn't see the little boy. Then suddenly, a figure slowly lurked into his good eye's line of sight.

"Persis calm down. " He pled.

"I can't calm down! My brother's oldest child could be outside freezing to death as we speak!"

"Persis, he's right here. I see him with my own eye," he assured her.

She let out a sigh of relief. "Does he look okay?"

Carl looked the boy up and down, then asked him, "Gilly, are you quite alright?"

The boy nodded, and Carl returned to the phone call. "He looks a little worse for wear, but all arms, legs, and digits appear to be intact."

"That's good to know,"

"Well, I had better let you go," Carl started to hand up the receiver without even telling her goodbye.

"Carl?" she called out.

"Yes, Persis."

"Thank you," she who was never meek, meekly said.

"I've made a lot of mistakes and bad decisions, Persis. Thank you for speaking to me again. Merry Christmas."

He could almost hear her smiling, "Merry Christmas to you too, Carl, and if you're willing to talk, so am I. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Persis."

Carl slowly hung up the phone, a smile growing across his face. Then, he looked down and saw the little boy before him. He knelt down to the youngster and kindly asked, "Aren't you supposed to be at Hillwynd tonight?"

Gilly didn't have time for such questions; he only had time to ask more important questions. "Is my mother dead?"

Carl remembered being afraid for his own mother's life once, and how the result was not good. He shook his head. "No my boy, no. Your mother is not dead. Rilla Ford has the Blythe constitution about her. I think she may need it. She is actually feeling a great deal better now."

"Are you sure?" Gilly asked, not wanting to be lied to.

"Yes, I just saw her myself. However, you may want to see for yourself."

Gilly's eyes grew wide. "May I?"

"Only if you'll let me carry you into the room. It's quite crowded up there, and anyway, I've always wanted a little boy like you. You remind me of someone I care for a great deal."

"My Grandmother Ford says that I act just like my Aunt Persis sometimes," Gilly informed Carl as he carried him upstairs.

"Is that so? I would never have guessed." Carl asked as he knocked on a door upstairs before opening it.

Gilly looked about. The room was crowded, especially over by the window where there was a big, white bassinette. He couldn't see Mother anywhere for all the people. Thankfully, Carl spoke out. "Look who decided to visit, all on his own?"

The crowd parted, and there in a bed sat Mother, her face all aglow. "Gilbert Kenneth Ford! Do you mean to tell me you walked all the way here, in the middle of the night, during a snowstorm?" she asked.

Carl put him down, and the little boy ran to his mother's side. "I just had to, Mother. I was afraid that you might die."

"I have no notion of dying," Rilla assured her son, pulling him close to her.

Gilly smiled. "I am so very relieved."

"So am I," his Dad said, tussling his hair. "I can't take care of five children all on my own."

"Five children?" Gilly asked.

Everyone laughed. Kenneth picked up his son and showed him the bassinet. Inside, there were three tiny little babies, sleeping soundly. "It seems that the stork is working with Santa Clause this year, son. Here are your new sisters and brother."

Gilly looked to Dad and then to Mummy. "Their ours?" he asked, astonished.

"Yes, very much so," Granddad said from a far off corner.

"They're very little," Gilly remarked.

Uncle Walter took him from his tired father's arms. "Yes, but they rarely ever come, three at a time."

Jem walked over and took another look, "They are small, but they're strong and healthy. They will need their older brother to help out with them."

"I'll do it. I'll do anything. I love them already!"

"Gilly, why don't you let me put you in some warm, dry clothes and into bed?" Grandmother asked, noticing his little yawns.

"I guess that would be fine, now that I know that Mother isn't going to die."

"I think that we should all get some rest. We have three newborns in the family that will require a great deal of attention. Let all of us rest while we can," Grandfather Blythe told the crowd.

At that, the crowd dispersed, Anne and Mrs. Wright put Gilly to bed. Faith and Rebecca checked in on the other wee ones sleeping in other rooms. Diana made phone calls to Hillwynd, the manse, and McGowan Farm. Kenneth stepped outside with his father-in-law, Shirley, Jem, and Mr. Wright to share to obligatory cigars.

Carl walked up to Una. "Do you mind if I don't take you home right away, Sis?"

"No, why?" she asked, concerned.

"I must take of something right away,"

"It's the middle of the night, Carl," she told him.

He assured his sister, "I have to right a wrong I made a long time ago, Sis, and I feel that it must be done tonight."

She smiled weakly, "Do what you feel you must."

He nodded and bade her goodbye. Una sighed, not understanding, thinking many different things. She walked into the kitchen and looked out the window into the darkness of the night. She became absorbed in her own thoughts so much that she didn't hear the footsteps behind her.

"They are little miracles, aren't they?" Walter's velvet voice asked from behind.

Una looked down shyly. "Yes. Yes they are."

Walter leaned against the old cabinets tired from the night's excitement. "I thought we would lose Rilla for a while."

"She pulled through."

"Yes, thank Heaven, she did. Though I don't know what would happen to the family had she not," he admitted.

"You would survive and carry on," Una answered absently. Then she added, "I don't think Rilla cares that she almost died tonight. She is fine now and has three beautiful new children to love."

"I suppose."

Una looked at him, her blue eyes almost in tears. "I know. I would sacrifice everything else I had in this world to know what it was like to be a mother, even if it was just for a short while. I would give up every other happiness, even my life."

Walter looked at Una differently, with a deeper understanding than ever before. "I never realized that you felt that way."

"No one ever has."

"Would you give up all other happiness at the chance of being a mother?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered fervently. "Out of everything I have ever wanted, I would give all of it up, to be able to someday hold my own baby in my arms." She then excused herself to help the others begin decorating the tree, wiping away stray tears lest she reveal too much. Though Samson and Persis made conversation relatively safe between them, she was still afraid of revealing too much of her heart to Walter, or possibly even herself.

Walter remained in the kitchen, looking at Una in yet another new light.

Everyone awoke the next morning to a fresh layer of snow that gently blanketed the entire Glen. Somehow, everyone made it back to Ingleside that morning, and Christmas was celebrated as never before. Rilla even was carried downstairs at her insistence to join in on the fun. She wasn't going to let anyone tell her she couldn't be brought downstairs as long as she kept still.

Hope ran to her Uncle Shirley and asked, "Did Santa Clause make it through the snow?"

Shirley looked to Hope with the excitement of a child in his eyes. "Santa Claus got here all right, and after you've had your breakfast you'll see what he did to your tree."

After breakfast, Mr. Wright mysteriously disappeared, but nobody missed him because they were so taken up with the tree . . . the lively tree, all gold and silver bubbles and lighted candles in the room that was dimly lit from the morning sun reflecting on the newly fallen snow, with parcels in all colors and tied with the loveliest ribbons piled about it. Then Santa appeared, a gorgeous Santa, all crimson and white fur, with a long white beard and such a jolly big stomach. Barry and Teddy screamed with terror at first, but refused to be taken out, for all that. Santa distributed all the gifts to the joyous multitude, though the children were a taken aback a little when he kissed Mrs. Wright under the mistletoe. The grownups all howled with approval.

Dinner was a splendid event, and not only were there no empty chairs, but extras had to be brought up from the manse! Carl Meredith pulled out a chair for Persis Ford, and sat next to her, much to Una's surprise. As everyone gathered for the feast, Mr. Meredith said a prayer of Thanksgiving over their many wonderful blessings.

Nan looked to the bassinets, because two more had been quickly found, where her new nieces and nephew lay cooing and asked Rilla and Kenneth. "What are their names? We must know what to call them other than Christmas Miracle One, Two, and Three?"

Rilla really was very tired from everything, though she refused to be taken back to bed. Kenneth answered, "We've given it a great deal of thought. When we thought we were just having one baby, we had decided on Owen James for a boy," his father and Jem smiled. "and Leslie Persis after my dear mother and sister. I'm sure you know which Owen is. The girlie with the brownish down is Leslie."

"You must name your other daughter too," Dr. Blythe laughingly told them.

Rilla decided that she had to speak up. "I've given it a great deal of thought. Though we never met her, we love her just the same. She is a member of our family, and Walter," he looked to his sister with his loving gray eyes, "the one with the golden hair is Katherine Marilla. She will be called Katie or Kate."

A tear came to Walter's eye, as did Ginny's. "Thank you very much. I'm sure that she will live proudly up to her name."

Jem stood up and held his old Green Gables goblet into the air, "To Owen James, Leslie Persis, and Katherine Marilla Ford. May they live long healthy lives. May they always bring honor to their names, and may they drive their mother absolutely insane!" he ended with a mischievous wink to his baby sister.

It was a Christmas that no one would ever forget. Later that evening, as the children played with their toys, the adults talked, played games, sang, and held the babies, Rilla picked up a worn old Bible that had once belonged to Matthew Cuthbert. She opened it up to the second chapter of Luke and read over it. She stopped on verse 19: "But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart. "

Rilla looked about the joyous house. She too kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.