The River Rose by Gilbert Morris

Then they put on their garlands, got their tea, and settled onto their mattress. Jeanne said, "Open this one first."
    It was not one but two long-sleeved chemises that Jeanne had made for Marvel from the Gayoso pillow slips. "Oh, thank you, Mama. They are so soft! May I wear one to church?"
    "Well, if you wear a dress over it," Jeanne said. "Go ahead, darling, open the other."
    It was a real, store-bought, German-made lady china doll. She had a glazed porcelain head with molded hair painted black, wooden limbs padded with kid, little porcelain hands, and painted blue eyes and a small red cupid mouth. Her full-skirted white dress was made of embroidered eyelet trimmed with delicate lace. For long moments Marvel was speechless, her dark eyes as round as buttons.
    "Oh my gunness!" she breathed. "She's beautiful! Thank you, thank you, Mama!"
    "You're very welcome, Marvel," Jeanne said happily. "She is very pretty, isn't she? Just like you. What are you going to name her?" Jeanne had made Marvel a rag doll, and because Marvel fancied the name of the owner of Gayoso House, Robertson Topp, she had named her doll Mrs. Topp. She had always been very insistent that Jeanne call the doll by her name.
    Now Marvel frowned with concentration. "I think," she said slowly, "I'll name her Avaymaria."
    "Avaymaria?" Jeanne repeated with amusement. "That's a nice name for a grand lady."
    Marvel touched the doll's head, smoothed her hair, felt of the dress. "Mama, did you know the words to that song?"
    "No, darling, it was in Latin. I do know that it's actually two words: Ave Maria, and that means Hail, Mary."
    "Mary, Jesus' mother?"
    "That's right."
    Marvel nodded, her eyes still on the doll. "Why did you say that the Singing Man couldn't be married to the Harp Lady?"
    Jeanne explained, "I could tell by their clothes that the lady was rich and the man was poor. Rich people don't marry poor people."
    "Ever?"
    Jeanne hesitated. She always tried to tell Marvel the exact truth, as much as she could comprehend. "I suppose that it does happen sometimes, but not very often. Rich people just usually don't want to marry someone that is poor, because they think that the poor person just wants to marry them for their money."
    Marvel digested this for a few moments, then asked, "Is Mr. Masters rich?"
    "I think so. Yes, I know he is."
    Now Marvel looked up to meet Jeanne's eyes squarely. "So you don't like him because we're poor and he's rich?"
    Flustered, Jeanne said, "No, that's not why—I mean, I guess I didn't explain it properly. I think—that is, Mr. Masters thinks—oh, never mind, Marvel. This is something about adults that you're not old enough to understand yet. And besides, we were talking about rich people and poor people getting married, and that has nothing to do with me and Mr. Masters. In fact, you need to just forget about Mr. Masters, and the Singing Man, too, because you probably won't see either of them again."
    Marvel looked downcast. "Yes, Mama."
    Jeanne thought, What's wrong with me? Making my own child unhappy on Christmas morning? But it's not my fault, if she questions these things I have to tell her the truth!
    She reached over and put one finger under Marvel's chin to lift her head. "My darling girl, we're happy, aren't we? You're not sad about Mr. Masters, are you?"
    Marvel gave her a sunny smile. "No, Mama. If you're happy, then I am too."
    Jeanne nodded. "I am happy, Marvel. The Lord has blessed us so much this Christmas. We have a home, and good food, and nice presents!"
    "Like snow, and a Christmas pudding, and Avaymaria," Marvel agreed, hugging the doll. "Thank you, Mama, and thank you, Baby Jesus."
    "Yes," Jeanne said quietly, "thank you, Lord Jesus."

C HAPTER F IVE
      
    Jeanne went back to work the day after Christmas, a sparkling and warm day that immediately melted the heavenly snow. Grimly, she realized that her boots were so muddy that Mrs. Wiedemann would never allow her to come into the hotel, and Jeanne would have