ilarious
celebration of her birthday. She was so glad when the children said
good-night and went off to bed, and she could seek the quiet of her
own room.

As she bade her father good night, he said: "Well, daughter, I hope
you have enjoyed your birthday and all your gifts?"

At this all the honesty of her nature, all the hatred of sham, rose up
in one indignant outburst, and she exclaimed: "I have had no gifts,
neither has this been my birthday celebration."

"Why, Marcia!" said her father in an aggrieved tone, "this certainly
is your birthday, and we have been very happy in keeping it for love
of you."

"I have failed to see any manifestation of love to me," retorted
Marcia. "You may have had a happy time, but I have not been in it; you
have given gifts to one another, but I have had just one"--and she
held up the bunch of violets. "This is a gift of love from little lame
Joe, in answer to his prayer, and in pity for my hungry heart."

There was silence in the room for a moment, and then her father
answered: "It seems to me, daughter, that when you get right down to a
personal application, what you believe in after all is a 'white
birthday'."

The words went through her like an electric shock, and with a start
she awoke, and sat upright in her chair; and, lo, it was all a dream!

Marcia looked around the room, shook herself a little, stirred the
fire, and put on fresh coal. She laughed at the remembrance of her
dream, and its absurdity! How glad she was that it was only a dream!
But was it only a dream? Was it not a reality? Was not this the way
she had kept the Lord's birthday? When she had opened her Christmas
treasure, how much had been given Him and for love of Him? How large a
place had she given Him in the season's activity? Had she ever made
room for Him as the central figure of it all; or had he been crowded
out, and His rightful place given to Santa Claus and the world's
merry-making?

In the light of the Spirit she saw that the Star of Bethlehem always
leads to the cross of Calvary. She had never liked to think about the
cross before, but now it was all illumined with the glory of the love
which gave to us God's best, his only begotten Son. She remembered how
the Lord Jesus had said: "If I be lifted up, I will draw all men unto
Me." She saw that it is as we see Christ on the cross for us that we
are drawn to Him.

In that still hour, on her knees, at the foot of the cross, Marcia
with great glad