"On Christmas morning, 1920, a mother stood in the doorway of the living room and chuckled as her three-year-old boy scampered to the brilliant Yule tree. He'd known this day was coming. For days he hung around his father, and for nights he tried to hold off bedtime. "One more Indian story," he would plead. Now the child approached the tree and pounced on the tiny tricycle his mother had bought in Baltimore. There were other gifts, too, and much excited tearing at the tissue. A slight fever had flushed the little boy the day before, but he seemed fine now. That night he went to bed weary and happy."
A Help-Your-Self Booklet, 1959