Poor Glim tried to help out, but his knees did not work because of an accident he'd had. It seemed that back, way back then, his drunken father had stepped on his legs and now his poor knees just wouldn't work and two wooden boards he used for splints, which did help me to get around.

Then there on the sidewalk he did see, a black pocketbook, one of the shiny material kind, just laying there, and no one around. Glim had been trying to save to buy his mither and his sibs a small Christmas present. He stopped in front of the purse and looked around. There was no one in sight so he did pick it up.

Wahoo! he yelled under his breath, as a purse he did find therein. And in it oh my, he found a wad of dough, nearly three hundred dollars it was. Then quickly in his mind, Glim spent every dollar, nickel and dime. And just as quickly he put the pocket book in the sack and the purse inside his worn and thin shirt.

But as he neared the store, a pang of guilt ran up his spine, and he did not feel so good; so he stopped and sat down. "I am rich," he thought. He thought of all the nice things he could buy and make for his mither and the bairns.

Glim pulled out the pocketbook and opened it, where he found inside the wallet, an identity card and pictures. The bag belonged to Mrs. Cara Fawn, 123 Elmwood Lane. Then the guilt pangs began to eat at him, so he slowly climbed to his feet. And trudge trudge he went to 123 Elmwood Lane and upon the door he did knock. The door was opened by a hag, a witch, a crone, an ogre. Oh my, I have been bad Glim did think.

"Yes what you want dirty little boy," the woman said, and she cackled as he stood there.

"Ma'am . . . .I found your pocketbook on the street, and I'm returning it to you." Glim did manage to mumble for the old woman brought fear to the small lame little boy.

Quickly, she grabbed the pocketbook from his hand and opened it up. Then Glim remembered the purse he still had.

"My money you little fool, you took my money! How cruel of you."

Glim fished inside his thin shirt and did the purse hand to the old hag. "Sorry ma'am, but yes I did think of using it to buy Christmas presents for my family."

The woman grabbed the purse and slammed the door.

So Glim, with heavy heart indeed, felt oh so good. For he had saved Christmas for the old hag, and so off he went shuffling back home.

And so all the hours he could, Glim tried to collect enough stuff to bring Christmas to his mither and bairns, to make them have a good Christmas is what he most wanted.

But the cold was hard on the little boy and on the day before Christmas Eve he came down with a terrible cold. His mither put him to bed and tried to keep him warm, with hot soup and broth. But on Christmas eve Glim did pass away, off to that large warm playground in the sky.

As he lay there, washed and in clean clothes, a strange light appeared. No one could explain, for after the light faded, there on the floor lay a wondrous Christmas array, with food and candy, and new clothes too, for mither and all of the bairns. And Glim was up above, looking down, saying 'Merry Christmas' to all.