at the Squire’s gate at the top of the hill. And the prize—”
“—is a big new sled with steel runners!” shouted the other boys, unable to keep quiet any longer.
“What time does the race begin?” Nicholas asked.
“Nine o’clock sharp!” The boys jumped about, pelting one another with snowballs in their excitement.
Nicholas shook his head. “I don’t know whether I can be there,” he said slowly. He couldn’t possibly finish his chores, make the rounds with the gifts, and be on time for the start of the race. But how he longed for a chance to win the beautiful sled with steel runners!
The boys looked at him, silenced by the thought that came to every mind. Otto threw his arm around his friend’s shoulders and led Nicholas away from the group. “You know you don’t have to deliver those toys…” Otto began.
“But the children expect them,” Nicholas whispered. “Besides, the toys are all finished.”
“I mean you don’t have to hand the toys to the children. Couldn’t you just leave them in the doorway…early…even before they wake up?”
The two boys grinned happily at each other. “You are my best friend, Otto, but you’d better
watch out for that prize. I’m going to give you a run for it!”
When the children arose on Christmas morning, they found a bright sun streaming down on the hard, crusted snow. They also found that Nicholas had been there. Every doorway was heaped with little toys, the results of a whole year’s work.
After the excitement over the gifts had worn off, the villagers headed for the starting point of the race, the gate in front of the Squire’s house.
Everyone, that is, except Nicholas. A runner on his little sled had broken under the weight of the wooden toys, and he was desperately trying to fix it with bits of cord and rope. Just as he made the runner secure, he heard the faint echo of the horn announcing the start of the race. He knew he could never get there in time to start with the others, but he might as well make a dash for it.
At the top of the hill, the villagers made way for him. “Come on, Nicholas, lad,” shouted Jan Vogel. “Here men, let’s give him a mighty good push. One…two…three…off he goes!”
Down the hill sped Nicholas, his face stinging in the swift rush of wind. On and on he went, his eyes glowing with excitement as he saw he was gaining ground on the boys ahead. Then he noticed something that puzzled him. The boys had all stopped on the other side of the frozen creek. They had hopped off their sleds and were standing quietly, waiting.
“Come on, Nicholas,” shouted little Josef. “We would have waited for you at the top, but the Squire made us start when the horn blew. But you knew we’d wait for you, didn’t you?”
“From now on see who waits for you,” shouted Otto. “First one home wins the sled with the steel runners!” Then they were off across the fields, now coasting, now dragging their sleds, up and down hill, bumping into one another, laughing and shouting with excitement.
Nicholas was unable to speak. His friends had waited for him! They did like him even though he was an orphan, who had no home of his own and had to be passed around. His clumsy sled felt as light as his heart as he raced across the fields. It wasn’t until he had crossed the brook that he realized he was leading the race.
“Up at the top of the hill there’s a beautiful sled that will hold twice as many toys as this old thing,” he thought. Digging his toes in the hard snow, he started back up the hill. He turned around once to see how close the others were, and heard the encouraging shouts of the villagers. Then he was at the top. He had won the race! Panting, he leaned against the big pine, and smiled and waved to the others.
The big sled with steel runners was very fine. But it was even better to see the boys who had lost the race, pulling Nicholas home on his prize. The little children hopped on behind and climbed