"You are the worst boy, Theodore Laurence."
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For centuries, humankind has used the stars. Whether it be for navigating across unfamiliar oceans, for preserving myths and legends of great heroes who were bestowed a spot in the heavens by the gods...
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EVERY CHRISTMAS MORNING, for as long as Charlotte could remember, she would awake to the smell of blueberry pie. Her mother's blueberry pie would take her all night to prepare, and by the early hours of the morning, the house would smell of nothing else but blueberries and sugar. Charlotte would race down from her room, still dressed in her nightgown and socks, and wait an agonizingly long time for her mother to pull her wonderful creation out of the oven, after which they would share a slice alongside a modest serving of ice cream and talk of nothing but pleasant things.
But this Christmas morning, Charlotte wasn't awoken by the burning juice of blueberries or the sharp smell of cinnamon and vanilla, but the excited shouts of the youngest March sister.
"It's Christmas!" Amy yelled in Charlotte's ear, making her tumble out of bed in a mess of blankets and flailing limbs.
Charlotte picked herself up off of the ground. "Is it now?" She grumbled sleepily as she threw the blankets back on their shared bed, "I had no idea."
"Come on!" Amy jumped and clapped her hands together, "we are decorating downstairs and I have made the most beautiful garland!" She ran from the room, giggling as she hurried down the stairs.
Charlotte fought the urge to crawl back under the covers and sleep until the middle of the afternoon, and slowly forced herself to get dressed. She had just finished buttoning up her butterscotch yellow dress when she heard cheers and giggles from downstairs as Jo appeared, and quickly hopped down the steps to join her cousins.
The parlor had descended into a delightful chaos in the first few hours of the day, with piles of paper chains and stars littering the floor, while garlands and mistletoe had been attached to every surface imaginable by Amy. Beth sat on the sofa, handing Amy dried orange slices with pieces of twine passed through them, while Meg sat beside a mountain of linens and cranberry and popcorn garlands, watching Amy with a wary eye as she teetered on the edge of a stool.
"Merry Christmas, Charlie!" Jo exclaimed, slinging her arm over Charlotte's shoulders and hugging her close.
"Charlotte! Hand me another slice." Amy exclaimed, pointing to a pile of dried orange slices.
"Jo, what have you been writing?" Beth asked, spotting the thick stack of pages in Jo's hands and the fresh ink stains on her fingers.
"Oh, I got carried away with our delicious revenge play last night." Jo shook the pages and smirked, "Poison!"
Amy groaned, signaling her distaste. "No! No poison. It's Christmas."
Jo flopped down in the middle of the floor and folded her hands behind her head. "Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents," she sighed unhappily.
"It's so dreadful to be poor." Meg added softly as she hemmed her handkerchief.
Amy made a face of displeasure as she spoke. "I don't think it's fair for some girls to have lots of pretty things and other girls nothing at all."
