The months slowly changed, and November rolled in…such an ugly, miserable month, Di had always thought. This year was no different, though there were a few bright spots.
First was Patrick's farewell visit before leaving for Avonlea. He stopped by the morning of his departure, wearing his usual smile and bearing a basket under one arm.
"I couldn't leave without saying good-bye," he told Di. "Do you have anything you want me to take for Shirley or the twins?"
"As a matter of fact…" Di said, eyes twinkling. She reached under her desk and pulled out a box. "I was going to mail this, but I'll send it with you instead. It has their Christmas presents and some goodies. I don't trust you men to come up with a true Christmas dinner on your own."
Patrick hastily turned a laugh into a cough. Di's lack of cooking skills were legendary, and it was a well-known fact that he himself was something of a chef. "I'm sure we'll appreciate them," he said from behind his hand. "As it turns out, though, Shirley told me we were going to be having Christmas dinner with the Craigs. Apparently Mrs. Rev. Craig doesn't trust our cooking abilities any more than you do." He set the basket down. "And I have here Christmas presents for you, Tricia, and Persis…and something for little Polly, if you'll permit it."
He reached in and pulled out a sleepy, squirming ball of grey and white fluff. Di bit her lip. For various reasons, she didn't allow pets in the Home, but Patrick's face was so hopeful she just couldn't bring herself to disappoint him. Still, just to tease him, she put on a stern face.
"We at the Shirley-Stedman Home do not allow the children to keep pets," she said in her haughtiest tones. "They are flea-ridden germ carriers, and cannot be trusted around the furniture. Besides, I'm not sure if I can allow Polly to be accepting gifts from men yet. She is far too young for you."
Patrick merely grinned. "So I'll leave this little one with you, then. Can you keep it hidden until Christmas?"
Di shook her head. "One of these days I'll learn how to say no to you."
"Have a wonderful holiday."
"Enjoy your vacation. Give my love to Shirley and the twins."
With a cheery wave, Patrick strode out the door.
When Tricia poked her head in the office a few minutes later to deliver the mail, she found Di regarding the kitten with distaste. Unlike Nan, who adored cats, Di only tolerated them. She handed it over to Tricia hastily, ignoring the girl's look of surprise. "Here, take care of this for the next few weeks, will you? It's a Christmas present for Polly."
Glancing down at the desk, she saw a letter addressed to Tricia. "Here, this one is yours."
Tricia blushed and snatched it up, cramming it into her pocket. "I must have dropped it by accident," she said, trying to sound casual despite the deep red flush staining her face and neck. Clutching the kitten to her chest, she hurried out, leaving Di wondering what was so embarrassing about a letter from one Blair Giraud.
The last day of November was enlivened by another visit—this one by Alan and Anna King. Apparently Tricia hadn't been expecting them, because when she saw Persis ushering them into the sitting room, she let out a squeal and raced to throw her arms around her cousin—followed moments later by Katia, who enveloped Anna in an enormous hug of her own.
Di came out of the playroom, surrounded by the other children, all attracted by the noise. She stared in disbelief. When had Katia ever shown that much joy?
Alan kissed Tricia on the top of her head and came to greet Di, his hand extended. "Miss Blythe? Alan King. This is my wife Anna."
Anna tucked Katia in under her arm and also came forward, smiling charmingly.
"I'm very pleased to meet you," Di said cordially, shaking their hands. "I take it this is a surprise visit?"
Alan smiled. "Quite. However, as much as it delights me to see my little Patsy again…" winking at Tricia.
Di just barely managed to keep a straight face. Patsy?
"…We're actually here on business."
"I see. Shall we adjourn to my office, then?"
"That would be good, thank you."
The three of them went into the office, Alan closing the door behind them and taking his wife's hand. Di took advantage of the quiet moment to look them over.
Despite their youth—Alan was nineteen and Anna twenty—they both looked quite responsible and mature. Anna's face showed suffering and strength, and Alan had a twinkle in his blue eyes that reminded Di overwhelmingly of Patrick.
"So what can I do for you?" she inquired.
Anna merely looked expectantly to Alan, who took a deep breath before replying. "Miss Blythe—my wife and I would like to adopt Katia."
Di's eyebrows flew up nearly to her hairline. This was not what she had been expecting! "I see," she said, trying to adjust to the idea. "May I ask why?"
"When Tricia brought her to the wedding in September, we both fell in love. There is a very good possibility that we might not be able to have children of our own—my parents had to wait eight years before having me, and apparently the doctors didn't think I would make it full term. Anna, also, is an only child, and saw five siblings die before or on birth."
He took a deep breath. "We had talked even before we got married about adopting children—in part because of Tricia's involvement with your work here. Anna hoped to adopt at least one Russian child, and Katia is one of the sweetest little girls we've ever seen."
Di was impressed by how reasoned and well-thought-out this was, but she still had a few reservations. "You are aware that Katia is ten?"
They both nodded. "There will only be nine or ten years between you. This doesn't concern you?"
Anna spoke for the first time, passion pouring through her accented voice. "Miss Blythe, it is not physical age that marks a person, it is their experiences. I, too, lived through revolution, and remember far more than I wish. The things I have endured have aged me far beyond my years, as have Katia's experiences. We share a bond, not only as Russians, but as sister sufferers. I may be young to be a mother, and she may be too old to be my daughter, but we are bound together nonetheless."
Di glanced at Alan. "You feel the same?"
"Obviously I have not shared their experiences, but I can tell you that I felt as though Katia were my own from the first time I saw her," he nodded.
Di let out a breath, feeling suddenly sad. "Well…in that case, I say we should begin the paperwork. Perhaps you would like to tell her yourself?"
The joy on their faces more than made up for any sorrow she felt over losing the little girl. This was an ache she felt every time one of her children was adopted—a compound of joy for them and sorrow for her and the rest left behind.
And so, a few weeks before Christmas, Katia had left their midst to become Ekaterina Petrova King, beloved daughter to Alan and Anna. It was many years until Di saw her again, but seeing the beautiful and talented woman the child had become, she knew she had done the right thing.
The children were less sad to see her go than they might have been, as Christmas was exciting them all. This holiday was always the high point of the year for the Home. there were too many birthdays between twenty children to celebrate them all, particularly as many of the children had no idea when they were born.
Di was unable to give the children pocket-money, so Christmas was always a time of great ingenuity in coming up with gifts. The babies, of course, never bothered about it, but the older ones always drew names, and there was much competition to come up with the best gifts.
Freddy, the creative one, made his gifts out of whatever scraps of wood and cloth he could find lying around. Peter hoarded whatever spare change he got throughout the year and spent it all at Christmastime.
Most of the others fell somewhere between the two—either making their gifts or spending whatever little money they had come by, but Pierre and Paulette had to be watched to make sure they didn't go overboard. Di still shuddered when she remembered going out for her own shopping last year and seeing the two of them dressed as beggars, caps in hand, pleading for money for their poor starving mother and baby sisters from the well-dressed passer-by!
This year, however, they were not as extravagant. There was much whispering in the corners between the two of them, however, and when they came to Di solemnly the week preceding Christmas, she couldn't help but feel slightly apprehensive.
"Mother Di," Paulette began, her big eyes very important. "We want to get Miss Persis a Christmas present. We have one dollar between us—is that enough?"
"How did you get one dollar?" Di asked nervously.
"We sold all of our dead snakes and mice and our live toad to the boys at school," she explained.
Di was amazed. For reasons she couldn't understand (beyond tormenting the housemaids), those were the twins' prized possessions—and now they had sold them off quite cheerfully to buy a present for Miss Persis! It spoke of the love they bore for her, and Di felt a shiver of worry as to what would happen to them when Persis finally left them—for Di knew she wouldn't stay forever.
She put that aside, however, and sat down with the two to figure out just what kind of a present they could buy with one dollar.
Elisabetta and Francesco, meanwhile, took over the kitchen one day, much to Mrs. Goccia's dismay, and made cookies and candies to give away as their presents. Elisabetta was quite clever in the kitchen, but Mrs. Goccia still moaned and groaned when the two finally finished and left her with all the sticky pots and pans to be washed.
Olivia hated Christmas, but she grudgingly spent a few of her hoarded away coins each year on a cheap present for whomever she drew. Di knew, though Olivia tried to keep it a secret, that the little girl saved all the money she had ever gotten from her grandmother and relatives, and was planning on using it when she was old enough to leave the Home and live by herself.
Bran wandered around miserably for a week, unable to think of anything to do for Christmas presents, until Di finally took pity on him and told him that if he helped her out in the office, she'd pay him a nickel each day.
He brightened up immediately, and after that, he spent an hour or two with her every day, organizing papers, carrying out her trash, running errands, and carrying messages to and from the staff.
Di had expected him to be more trouble than help, and was pleasantly surprised when he turned out to be quite useful. Given a real task, real responsibility, he put aside his tricks and mischief, and worked diligently and well.
Of course, he was still Bran, as Di realized when he brought in her daily cup of tea—flavored with salt instead of sugar!
Christmas morning dawned bright and clear and crisp. The children all woke before dawn and tumbled down the stairs in their eagerness to see the tree Di, Persis, and Tricia had put up the night before.
Persis was with them that morning. "I should be with the family," she confessed to Di. "But Mother and Dad are spending the day with Ken and Rilla, and things are still so strained between the two of them that it's misery to spend much time around them. I know that everyone will put on happy faces and pretend to be excited for Gilly's sake, but I can't do it."
Di understood. The few times she had been with her sister and brother-in-law, she wanted to shake them and force them to talk to each other. The polite tension between then was palpable, but neither would admit it, pretending to themselves and the world that everything was fine.
Squeals and shouts of delight echoed through the Home as the children dove into their gifts. Tricia had knitted all of them mittens and scarves—and swore to Di that she would never touch a pair of knitting needles again. Persis had brought candy and oranges and tops for all the children—and a large encyclopedia of reptiles for Paulette and Pierre.
The Stedmans always bought winter coats and boots for the children each Christmas, and the Blythes always combined resources for something special. This year it was ice skates—Shirley's idea, Di assumed. Cecily had been a talented skater, and Shirley held it dear for that reason.
Di herself bought something specific for the children: a copy of the Mabinogion, the famous collection of Welsh myths, for Bran; a book on the history of Britain for Peter, who was fascinated with his home land; art supplies for Freddy; a football for Francesco, the athlete…and so it went.
Persis was thrilled with the bottle of perfume and bangle bracelet given to her by the twins. Di knew they were both junk in comparison to the accessories she normally bought in Paris, but she to gauge by her reaction, they were the finest treasures ever.
Polly's kitten—instantly named Bob, for some strange reason, by the little girl—was also a huge success, and even Peter forgot his jealousy of Patrick long enough to pat the creature on its head.
Di herself was pleased and touched by an unexpected gift: a teacup and saucer from Bran. The cup itself was dreadfully ugly—garish reds and blues in a hideous pattern—but the fact that he had been working partly to buy her something meant the world to her.
"I love it," she told him sincerely. "Thank you so much."
He squirmed a little. "Since you like tea so much, I thought you might like a pretty cup to put it in," he said innocently. "Do you really like it?"
Di kissed his face warmly. "I'll treasure it always."
The rest of the day was spent in trying out new gifts, stuffing themselves with the marvelous dinner sent in by the Stedmans, and playing games in the playroom, ending with carols sung around the Christmas tree. Di wished briefly that Patrick could be there with a piano, but listening to the childish voices raised in a hearty chorus of "Joy to the World," she was happy with things just as they were.
By the way, for all the Americans, the football that was bought for Francesco was what we would call a soccer ball--they didn't start calling it football in Canada until the next year.