Christmas Day, 1829

Cosette awoke the next morning in a state of profound agitation. She had not slept much the night before, but was not tired in the least; in fact, the very moment that she rose, she flew downstairs to see what had been left for her the night before. As soon as she reached the entrance to the parlour, her tiny mouth dropped open in response to what lay before her eyes.

Before her was the most fantastic display of gifts ever to be seen by a child on Christmas morning. There were violets, crocuses and snowdrops, all arranged with baby's breath in colourful glass vases around the room, and exquisite porcelain dolls of every shape and size. There were piles of clothing: dresses, hats, a pair of heeled boots, and a fur-lined hooded cloak with a matching muff for the cold weather. There were candies and cakes, chocolates and honey sticks, biscuits and cookies. There was a vanity mirror and bench, inlaid with mother-of-pearl and painted in places with the finest gold. There was a child's bookshelf, stacked high with all manner of gilt books. There were richly woven blankets and pillows. There was even a comb, mirror and brush set made of solid silver. And in the midst of all of this treasure sat Jean Valjean, glorious and grand, in a magnificent wine plush armchair in the front of the fire, smiling so fiercely that it seemed that his gentle face would break in half! He held out a cup and saucer to his daughter.

"Good morning, child," he said.

Unable to contain her glee any longer, Cosette squealed a cry of pure joy and ran towards her father. The happy old man stood up and embraced the girl. She covered his shining face in a myriad of tiny kisses.

"Oh, Papa!" she exclaimed. "Look! Look! Can you believe it?"

Jean Valjean smiled down warmly at her, and handed her her morning tea. "I can," he replied.

Cosette looked down at her tea, and began searching for a suitable companion among the piles of sweets on the floor. After a moment, she picked up a green frosted cake and took a bite. She smiled contentedly.

"How is it, Cosette?" Jean Valjean asked her.

"It's delicious," she answered. She held out the rest to Jean Valjean, but he waved it away.

"Why don't you try some of the others?" he suggested. He stooped down and picked up a thick slice of ginger bread, a bag of candied violets and a large sugar cookie. Cosette took the ginger bread and unceremoniously shoved the entire piece into her mouth. She chewed it awkwardly, unable to completely close her mouth in order to swallow. Jean Valjean laughed.

"Careful, child," he admonished, handing her a glass of milk. Cosette took it and washed down the bread with a large gulp.

"Thank you, Papa!"

"You're welcome."

For the next hour, the happy pair made their way around the room, inspecting every single gift that had been left by the generous Father Christmas. They sampled all of the various treats with relish. Cosette tried on her new cloak and danced around the room, letting it twirl around her ankles like leaves in the wind. She plaited her hair with the aid of her new comb and vanity, and leafed through the dozens of books which had been arranged on the shelf. Finally, when there was nothing left to examine, they collapsed back in the gigantic armchair, exhausted from their explorations.

Jean Valjean turned to his daughter and asked, "Are you satisfied, Cosette? Did you get everything you asked for?"

"I am very satisfied, Papa," she answered. "It's just-" She hesitated.

"Yes?" her father prompted.

"Well, I don't want to sound ungrateful, because I am grateful, I really am, but there was one gift that I asked for that I didn't get. And it was the gift that I wanted most of all." She sighed. "I'm sorry, Papa."

Jean Valjean put his arm around her. "Don't be disappointed, Cosette," he said. "And you have no need to be sorry. Just remember that you are young, and have many years ahead of you during which you will receive presents more incredible that those you have received this morning. Be content for now, and wait patiently for what you will be given when you are older."

Cosette thought for a moment. "I think you are right, Papa," she said thoughtfully. "Thank you." Then she yawned a mighty yawn and curled up into the warmth of her father's chest. Within moments, she was fast asleep.