𝓐 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓐𝓭𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 || 𝓖𝓲𝓵𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓽 𝓑𝓵𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓮

To Help A Friend

There was a time when Flora loved Christmas. She used to adore everything about it; decorating the house and tree, singing songs while opening presents, playing in the snow before cooking a wonderful dinner, sitting around the fireplace with her family -- Christmastime used to be full of nothing but joy.

Now, however...Christmas wasn't associated with joy. Instead, whenever Flora thought of Christmas, she thought of memories. Happy memories that only made her sad when she thought about them. The wintertime is when Flora thinks of her mother the most, and Christmas is one of the biggest reasons for that. Nothing would ever beat waking up on Christmas morning from Mother shaking her with a beautiful bright smile.

She distracted herself the best she could with the preparations for her fourth Christmas in Avonlea. When Mother passed, Flora and her family spent Christmas with Grandmother and Grandfather in Avonlea. The next year, they spent the holidays in Charlottetown with Granny and Gramps. They rotated back and forth each year, and this year they were staying in Avonlea.

Flora had quickly learned that Christmas in Avonlea was very different. For example, decorating the tree was not a family affair. Grandmother liked her tree to look absolutely perfect. Apparently, her grandchildren weren't capable of such perfection, and so they weren't permitted to even touch her tree.

At least Flora was allowed to help decorate for the Christmas Pantomime. Sitting on the school house tables with the girls, she was painting cardboard decorations to the best of her abilities. A little voice in the back of her head kept warning her "You've added too much paint!" or "It doesn't look right!".

The voice sounded suspiciously like Grandmother. She was more focused on listening to that than listening to what the girls were saying.

" -- And the bank manager, who happens to be my uncle, he said that the Cuthberts are poor."

But she did hear that. Startled, Flora looked up from her project. "What?"

Next to her, Diana frowned at Josie. "Anne is poor?"

"What do you mean "poor"?"

Josie shrugged without a hint of remorse. "Poor as in a "penniless old fellow with no head for finance"."

Ruby gave her a soft frown. "That's not very nice."

"That can't be true." Diana argued.

"I-I don't understand." Flora kept her voice low. Anne was, after all, sitting at a table nearby. "My grandmother is good friends with Miss Cuthbert, and she's made no mention -- "

Josie gave her a sharp look. "Well, they wouldn't choose to advertise, would they? If it were me, I'd keep such a shameful situation secret, too." Faltering, Flora glanced down at the white painted cardboard in her lap. "The Cuthberts had to mortgage their farm. Isn't that sad?"

There was a clang of metal hitting the table. They looked over to see that Anne had dropped her scissors to storm over to them.

"Josie Pye, you take that back!" She glared.

Josie only frowned at her. "Why are you upset? It's only true. You're poor." Anne didn't reply, only staring cluelessly at her. "...Wait, you didn't know?"

Diana and Flora shared a concerned glance. The former returned to watching Anne while the latter bit her lip anxiously. "Josie -- "

"Do you at least know if they're going to keep you?"

Scandalized, Anne flinched back. "Keep me?"

They all watched her with varying degrees of shock, concern, and pity. But before any more could be said, the choir conductor called them over for their turn to practice.