The War that Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

didn’t have any paper to wrap them. I wasn’t sure what to do.
“Breakfast,” Susan said. She’d put the kettle on for tea, and started a pan
full of sizzling sausages. She fried us each an egg. On the table, laid across
our plates, were two of our stockings, one each. They were stuffed full and
knobbly. I poked mine. “You should have hung those up last night,” she said.
“But I see Santa found them anyway. Have a look inside while I finish
cooking.”
An orange. A handful of walnuts. Boiled sweets. Two long hair ribbons,
one green and one blue. In the toe, a shilling.
Jamie had the same, except he had a whistle instead of hair ribbons, and an
India rubber ball.
Shiny bright girls, with ribbons in their hair. I wanted to weep all over
again. I wanted to scream.
What was wrong with me?
I couldn’t mess up Jamie’s Christmas. I stroked the satin ribbons and went
away in my head. I was on Butter, up on the hill, galloping, galloping—
“Ada.” Susan touched my shoulder. “Come back.”
Fried sausages on my plate. A fried egg, its yolk as bright as the sun. Toast,
and strong hot tea. Jamie blew his whistle—a piercing shriek. “Save that for
outside,” Susan said, ruffling his hair.
After breakfast we opened our presents. Jamie got a toy motorcar and a set
of building blocks. I got a new halter for Butter, and a pad of paper and a set
of colored pencils. We each got a book. Mine was called Alice in Wonderland.
Jamie’s was Peter Pan.
Susan didn’t get anything from Santa Claus. She told Jamie grown-ups
didn’t. But I pulled my gifts from my pocket. For Jamie I had a scarf made of
all the oddments of yarn, different colors and kinds, in stripes. He looked at it
and frowned. “I like the scarf Susan made me better,” he said. Susan poked
him and he said, “Thank you,” which kept me from smacking him.
Then I gave Susan her scarf, knit from the white wool. I’d made hers last
of all my gifts, so it would be the best, because I really did get better at
knitting the more I did it.
Susan unfolded it against her knee. “Ada, it’s beautiful. This is what
you’ve been doing?”
“I got the wool from Fred,” I said quickly, so she’d know I hadn’t stolen it.
She hugged me. “I love it. I’ll wear it every day.”