How can a good deed at Christmas backfire?

Agnes McClelland, Dalton, today on the Classic Tales podcast.

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show notes. And now, A Christmas Confession by Agnes McClelland Dalton

Phila McLeak lay wrapped softly in snow. The trees arching the wide streets swayed in the

stinging winter wind

And silently dropped their white plumes upon the head of the occasional pedestrian.

Over the old town, peace brooded.

The snow deadened the passing footstep.

The runners of the rude sleds, the hoofs of the farmhorses, made no sound.

Sleepy quiet prevailed, but for the rare jingle of sleigh-bells, or the gay calling of children's

voices. The rollicking morning sun, having set the town a glitter without adding a hint of warmth,

smiled broadly as he peeped into the snowy-curtained window of a little red brick house on the north side of High Street.

Here, in the quaint, low sitting-room, he found good cheer of plenty.

The red geraniums on the window-sill.

The worn but comfortable furniture.

The crackling wood fire upon the hearth.

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