snow falls on the just and the unjust. there was quite as much of it in hannah's back yard as in either virginia's or nellie's—perhaps even a little more had drifted into the fence corners. hannah's joy in discovering that in this respect she had not been slighted crowded her troubles into the background. immediately after breakfast, bundled up snugly, she stood in her yard and threw snowballs toward her neighbors' homes, while she squealed with delight. in a very few minutes, three little girls were playing where only one had played before.
the two newcomers, virginia lawrence and nellie halloran, presented an interesting contrast. virginia, slim, and tall for her age, with long, flat, yellow braids, handled the snow daintily, even gingerly. nellie, fat and dimpled, her curls tousled into a flame colored halo, rolled over and over in the snow, and then shook herself like a puppy. until the advent of hannah, a subtle antagonism had existed between the two children. virginia's favorite game was playing "lady" with a train floating gracefully behind her; nellie's chief joy in life was seeing how long she could stand on her head, her short skirts obeying the laws of gravity all the while. hannah, however, vibrated obligingly between the two sports, and kept the peace inviolate.
romping in the snow is hard play, and presently the little girls sat panting on the top step of the josephs' back porch. immediately nellie produced a string of amethyst colored beads from her coat pocket, with the announcement that she would say her prayers while resting.
"what kind of beads are those?" asked hannah.
"rosary beads, 'course," responded nellie. "hannah, you don't know anything."
"i do, too."
"huh! you didn't even know about the mother o' god until i told you."
"i reckon i thought god was an orphan," hannah pleaded in extenuation. "but, what about god's papa?" she demanded with sudden inspiration. "you're so smarty, tell me about that!"
"oh, god didn't have to have a father," nellie answered easily. "everything is free in heaven; so he didn't have to have a father to work for him when he was little."
"then why did he have to have a mama?"
"to tell him what to do, 'course. you know how 'tis. if you ask your papa anything, don't he always say, 'go ask your mama'?"
hannah had noticed this shifting of masculine responsibility more than once. "that's so," she acquiesced. then a terrible thought struck her. "i don't want to go to heaven! i don't want to go anywhere unless my papa can go too."
nellie's nimble irish wits were ready. "i just said god didn't need any papa. 'course our papas will go to heaven, 'cause that's the only place they can quit working. didn't i hear my papa say one time he hoped he'd get a little rest in heaven, 'cause he never got any on this earth?"
"but, you have to die before you can get to heaven," sighed hannah.
virginia, who had been maintaining a most dignified silence, looked as if she must speak or explode. "no you don't. heaven begins here and now," she recited. "if you are good, you are well and happy, and that's heaven."
"'tisn't," scoffed nellie. "do you see any angels flying 'round in this here yard? i don't."
hannah rather took to virginia's argument, and resolved to have conversation with her some time, undampened by nellie's skepticism. if there could be feasting on the joys of heaven here and now, hannah had every intention of being at the banquet table. at the present moment, however, the rosary beads were of fascinating interest; she must hold them in her own hands, and watch the play of purple lights upon the snow as she flashed them in the sun. questions about the crucifix, she found, brought on an embarrassing silence. nellie looked at virginia. virginia looked at nellie. then the two excused themselves for a whispered colloquy at the other end of the yard. when they returned, virginia acted as spokesman, fixing nellie with an unrelenting eye.
"that is jesus nailed to the cross, hannah. some very wicked people did it."
there was nothing exciting in this to hannah; wicked people were doing wicked things the world over, all the time. the statement fell flat, and nellie, disappointed at the lack of dramatic effect, broke treaty. "i 'spect the jews did it," she said.
"they did not!" hannah's voice trembled. "the jews are nice people; they wouldn't do a wicked thing like that!"
virginia put an arm across hannah's shoulders. "now see what you've done," she snapped at nellie.
"oh, i 'spect the irish helped them," nellie added magnanimously. "my papa says the irish are into every thing."
not having to bear the ignominy alone hannah was comforted. "what makes you say prayers on the beads?" she asked.
"'cause i want santy to bring me a doll to-night. i wrote him 'bout sixteen letters, and i'm going to say my rosary a dozen times to-day."
to-morrow was christmas day! hannah's face fell. all her sorrows returned with a rush. "have you got any more of those beads?" she asked.
"yes, but they wouldn't do you any good," nellie answered with quick understanding. "you're not a catholic."
"couldn't i be one?"
"not unless you're baptized with holy water. the priest does it."
the leaven had begun to work.
"what did your mama say about asking santa claus to come?" virginia inquired, with a quick glance toward the beads.
hannah shook her head, speechless. she compressed her lips into a tight line with an effort at self-control, but two large tears rolled down her cheeks and splashed on her scarlet coat. again virginia placed an arm protectingly across hannah's shoulder.
nellie's bright blue eyes grew soft with pity. "i tell you what," she exclaimed. "i'll baptize hannah, then she'll be a gentile, and santa claus will come, no matter what. and when your mama sees how nice it is, she won't care."
"but, you said a priest has to baptize anybody," objected virginia.
"he does 'less it's a time of danger and you can't get any priest. then any catholic can baptize anybody. my mama baptized our washerwoman's little baby 'cause they knew it was going to die before father murphy could get there. and ain't this a time of danger?"
"nobody's dying." virginia was distressingly literal.
hannah looked from one friend to the other, hoping against hope.
"no, but there's danger santa claus won't come to see hannah less'n sump'n is done mighty quick," came nellie's ready reply. "and can we get a priest? you go get one, virginia. go get one."
clearly there was no answer to this. the ceremony was set for early afternoon when grandmother halloran took her nap and nellie could borrow the bottle of holy water from her shelf. as to the place, there were six boys at the hallorans' always in the way; mrs. lawrence had guests; obviously the baptismal rite would have to be performed at hannah's home. after lunch the children assembled in the sun parlor of the josephs' home, in full view of mrs. joseph who sat embroidering in the library, the french door closed between them, so that she did not hear.
nellie had secured the bottle of holy water, and, arrayed in her brother joe's long, black rain-coat, a towel about her neck for a stole, acted as priest. virginia, not to be left out of such an important affair, consented to be godmother. in lieu of a prayer manual, nellie used one of hannah's story books. she chose a verse, which, because she knew it by heart, she could read exceptionally well:
"little boy blue, come blow your horn,
the sheep are in the meadow,
and the cows are in the corn."
then she poured a little of the holy water on hannah's forehead (wet hair might occasion unanswerable questions) and baptized her "hannah agnes ignatius joseph."
called upon for a response, the godmother recited very impressively the scientific statement of being as found in the christian science text-book, and hannah was pronounced a gentile and a catholic.
one thing more remained to be done. hannah ran to her mother, cheeks aglow. "mama, may i trade my striped ball to nellie for some beads?"
"why of course, darling, if you wish."
the exchange was made, and some time was spent in mastering the use of the rosary. all three of the children knew the "our father," though there was some difference of opinion as to "debts" and "trespasses" which is apt to hold in all mixed congregations. the "hail mary" proved a bit difficult for hannah, and she finally abandoned it. "i'll say, 'hear, oh israel, the lord our god, the lord is one,'" she said. "i already know that, and a prayer is a prayer, isn't it?"
nellie refilled the holy-water bottle from the kitchen hydrant, and hurried home to replace it before her grandmother should awaken. hannah spent the next hour lying flat on her stomach printing letters, appealing to virginia from time to time for aid as to the spelling, virginia being a very superior speller.
mrs. joseph was busy with callers when virginia went home, and hannah was left to her own devices. suddenly she thought of one stone that had been left unturned: there was her friend mr. jackson to whom the lawrences always appealed in time of stress. she knew the formula, she knew his number, for on the list by the lawrences' telephone, his name, like abou-ben-adhem's, led all the rest. "main 1234," it was as easy as counting. she slipped into the telephone closet and closed the door.
there was no trouble with hannah that night. she went to bed early, and didn't care to have any stories told—she could go to sleep by herself.
"quite a change of heart, eh?" eli commented to rose, as they sat by the living-room fire after telling their little girl good night.
"she has been like that all day, playing as happily as you please," rose responded. "i suppose she got it all out of her system in last night's scene."
eli drummed abstractedly on the arm of his chair: "i don't feel quite right about it, even so," he said.
"maybe you will think me inconsistent," she confessed, flushing, "but hannah was so indifferent about the presents sent her for chanuca, i only showed her two. i've saved the others to give her christmas day, so she will have something of her own to show when the other children bring theirs over."
eli didn't seem any too pleased. "poor little mite," he murmured.