The "Spirit of Christmas" does not have to die at midnight on Christmas day.

I have noticed in years gone by, that children can be very selfish and self-centered on Christmas day. But it is not their fault. It is the fault of the adults who put the idea into their heads that Christmas is for children GETTING gifts. But I have also noticed that children can be the ones who teach us adults that the "Spirit of Christmas", if we allow it to remain in our hearts, will linger on and on.

The "Spirit of Christmas" is giving, as well as receiving.

Rose woke up the day after Christmas. Her head was all in a spin. She looked at the chaos around her: to tidy, where should she begin? On the carpet were wrappings and tinsel, mixed up with new clothing and toys. In the kitchen disaster was waiting, left there by two girls and three boys.

Very soon her house was in order, the family still snug in their beds. She was thankful that Christmas was over. In the stillness she bowed down her head. It was then that a scene flashed before her, of the many she knew, not so blest. So she prayed, "Oh God, please forgive me for fussing because of the mess."

Across town sat a crippled young mother, tears of loneliness streamed from her eyes. The despair Amber felt deep within her, from her family she tried hard to disguise. She glanced across at her children, asleep on a mat on the floor. Her two boys were twins, soon eleven, and the girls, nine, seven, and four.

Christmas day the kids had been happy. Amber's head still throbbed with their noise. "Goodwill" had dropped off a hamper, filled with goodies and a few little toys. Several days, the groceries had lasted. Today, she would use up the meat. But what of next week, or tomorrow? She bowed down her head in defeat.

Now Rose was back at her office. She looked at the pile on her desk. She shuffled through papers and rubble to decide which case would be next. Her eyes fell on one titled, "Amber". Rose wondered what this was about. After scanning the pages of details, she knew this was one she'd scout out. She picked up the file and her cell-phone, leaving word she'd be back around two. She drove to the number on Fifth Street, not knowing what there was she could do. When she knocked she heard a wee shuffle. Crippled Amber soon opened the door. Once inside Rose could see the five children playing quietly down on the floor.

In her hand Amber'd crumpled a letter. How she missed her dear Michael-John. For two years he had been in the prison, two more before he'd be home. Legal aid had promised to help him to prove that "the witness" had lied. She had hoped that the courts would release him, but again, his parole was denied.

Amber wept as she told Rose her story. "I had hoped that soon he'd be home. If I could, I would work for a living, but the children I can't leave alone. And the landlord has given us notice to be out by the end of next week." ... Rose's heart was touched by the story, and now it was her turn to weep.

Rose stood and took leave of the family. Full of thought, she drove across town. She took Amber's case to her husband, a lawyer of worthy renown. Right away Sam jumped into action. He went to the judge at the court. He telephoned Rose at her office: "It's good news I have to report."

That night, with her children around her, Rose talked about poor Amber's plight. Not a word did she say about sharing, but the children were quiet that night. Next morning when they came to breakfast, they had with them clothes, books and toys. They said to their folks, "We have plenty. Please give these to those girls and boys?"

Rose's heart nearly burst with emotion as her children presented their things. And to Amber she said, "Don't you worry. We've found you a place until spring. By then Michael-John will be with you. My Sam will be taking his case." Rose was moved by Amber's reaction: relief spread all over her face.

Rose and Amber sat sharing refreshments as they watched all their children at play. They became, although previously strangers, best of friends from that very day.