Chapter One Playing Pilgrims.
While the snow fell quietly outside their New England home, the four March sisters stayed warm by the fire in their cozy living room.
"'Christmas won't be the same without presents,' grumbled fifteen-year-old Jo, lying on the rug.
Her older sister, Meg, sighed as she looked at her old dress.
It's not much fun being poor.
It's not fair that some girls have lots of pretty things and other girls don't have any at all.
Sniffed Amy who, at twelve, was the youngest.
But we've got a mother and a father who love us very much and we've always got each other.
13-year-old Beth said happily from her corner.
Her words seemed to cheer up the others.
Father's been gone for a long time, and we don't know when he'll be coming back, said Jo.
Meg insisted.
"'This is going to be a hard winter for everyone.
We shouldn't be buying presents while so many men are suffering during the war.
We should make sacrifices.'
But even as she said these kind words, Meg still longed for pretty things at Christmas.
Joe said, "'We've only got a dollar each, and that's not going to help the army much.'
She was the bookworm in the family and wanted to buy a new novel.
Beth longed for music and Amy dreamed of coloring pencils to help her draw.
Joe continued, Mother wouldn't mind if we spent our dollars on ourselves and had a little fun.
We work hard.
The chimes announced that it was six o'clock.
Beth put a pair of her mother's slippers near the fire to warm.
Joe noticed how old and worn they were.
She said, "'We should get Marmy a new pair.'
When Beth said she was going to buy the slippers with her dollar, Joe insisted she should be the one to buy them, because their father had told her to take special care of their mother while he was away'.
Meg thought that she should since she was the oldest.
Beth said, I've got an idea.
Let's all buy something for Marmy and not for ourselves.
All the girls thought this was a wonderful idea.
Meg said she would buy Marmy some gloves.
Joe exclaimed, satin slippers, the best I can get.
Beth chimed in, lovely hemmed handkerchiefs.
Amy thought for a minute as she pulled one of her blonde curls.
I'll get Marmia a little bottle of perfume.
This way I'll still have something for myself.
Joe was excited.
I can't wait to surprise her.
She turned to her sisters.
We'll go shopping tomorrow and remember we've got to rehearse our Christmas play.
Joe started marching around the living room.
In a few minutes.
The girls were laughing so hard they almost didn't hear their mother come in from the cold.
"'Clad to see you girls are having so much fun,' Marmy said.
"'Did you all have a good day?'
As Marmy took off her wet clothes, put on her warm slippers and sat down in front of the fire, the girls flew into action.
Joe stoked the fire, Meg got dinner ready, Beth helped Meg and Amy told everyone what to do and how to do it.
When all five of them were sitting down at the dining room table, Marmy said 'I've got a treat for you girls after supper'.
The smiles quickly spread.
Joe threw her napkin in the air, crying, "'It's a letter!
Three cheers for father!'
Marmy nodded.
Yes, it's a letter from your father.
He's well and thinks the winter won't actually be that bad.
He sends his love for Christmas and a special message that I'll save until after dinner.
The girls hurried their meal.
They couldn't wait to hear the letter.
They missed their father terribly.
After dinner, the four girls cuddled with their mother near the fire.
Marmy read.
Till my girls, I think of them all the time.
Even though it'll be a long while before I see them, I know they'll act properly and not waste their days being silly.
I know when I come home, I'll be prouder than ever of my little women.
The letter convinced the girls to be good while their father was away.
Everyone was cheerful as they set about their evening sewing after Hannah had cleared away the plates.
Mrs. March reminded the girls how they used to act out scenes from Pilgrim's Progress.
The girls recalled running through the house with bags on their backs and escaping evil horse's.
When it came time for bed, the girls sang, with Beth happily playing the piano.
Each performed in her own way.
Meg sounded like a flute.
Amy chirped like a cricket.
And Jo came in when she felt like it.
Bad timing and all.
They had sung before bed since they were small, and even now they were never too old for familiar lullabies.
