The War that Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

Jamie frowned. “What for?”
We’d heard of Father Christmas—it was something other children talked
about—but we didn’t get visits from him.
I said, “What do you usually do?”
Her face went soft, remembering. “The Christmases when Becky was alive
we’d have a big dinner with some of our friends,” she said. “Roast goose, or
turkey. In the morning we’d exchange presents—we always had a little tree,
and we’d decorate the windowsills with holly—and then we’d have
something wonderful for breakfast, hot sticky buns and bacon and coffee, and
then we’d just laze around until it was time to start making dinner. On Boxing
Day Becky would go hunting.
“When I was little, my family all went to midnight services on Christmas
Eve. My father would preach. The church always looked beautiful in the cold
candlelight. Then I’d go to sleep—such a short sleep!—and wake up to my
stocking filled with little presents at the foot of my bed. The bigger gifts were
downstairs, under the tree. Mother cooked a huge meal, and all the aunts and
uncles and cousins came…” Her voice trailed away. “We’ll do something
nice,” she said, “for your first Christmas here.”
“Can Mam come?” Jamie asked.
Susan put her hand on his head. “I hope she will,” she said. “I’ve invited
her, but I haven’t gotten a reply.”
“I’ll write to her,” Jamie said.
“You don’t have to,” I told him. It seemed risky. If we reminded Mam that
we were here, would she come and get us?
“We need to talk to her about your foot,” Susan said.
“Well, I’m not writing,” I said. I had memorized the alphabet, and was
starting to understand how the letters should sound, so that I could read even
words I hadn’t seen before. I could write, a bit. But not to Mam.
“You don’t have to,” Susan said, her arm around me.
The shops filled with the most amazing things: oranges and nuts and all sorts
of candy and toys. Susan said people were determined to have a happy
Christmas despite the war. She herself ordered a goose, since Jamie and I had
never had one, and then she invited some of the pilots from the airfield to
come eat it with us, because the goose was too big for the three of us alone. I
invited Fred, but he said he always went to his brother’s house and he didn’t