When I got down to the school on Christmas morning at half-past seven I found the boys already at breakfast. They were casting anxious eyes in the direction of the room with the closed door, and like other boys I have known they did not take long to eat their Christmas-morning breakfast. When they were all ready they filed into the room. I am not going to tell you how those stockings were filled. You may decide for yourselves how, and by whom it was done. I don’t think the boys stopped to think anything about “how.” They were too much interested in the sight of twelve white Chinese socks in a row, all bulging out in a knobby fashion, with things sticking out of them, and a flat, red parcel behind every sock. On the blackboard was written in Chinese, “Jesus’ Holy Birthday.” After they had looked for a minute I suggested that they take down their socks and see what was in them. Then for the first time in their lives they had the joy of exploring the mysteries of a Christmas stocking. Their presents were not very much, you would say, perhaps. Each boy found a story-book and a photograph of the school, and then down in the sock were nuts and candies, and right in the toe an orange. The two teachers each got a New Testament with the Chinese and English on the same page. They did not say much, and I wondered if they were disappointed, until one of the teachers, Mr. Jang, came up to me with tears in his eyes, saying, “You say we must not thank you, so I think we ought to thank God. Can’t we do it just now?” It touched me deeply. “Yes,” I said, and we all went up to the study-room and, standing there about the long table, one after another of the boys made a short, simple prayer of thanks to God, not only for the gifts of the morning, but especially for the greatest Gift of all, Jesus Christ. At nine o’clock we had our regular morning prayers, and then I gave to the day-boys their presents, a New Testament and a bag of nuts and candy to each one. We had a nice little service in the church for all the church people, but our real Christmas service was held the next Sunday. On that day we had a special musical service, led by the boys, who had been practising for months under Mr. and Mrs. McAmmond. It would have done you good to hear them open the service with “Come, Thou Almighty King,” with Georgie Bond singing one verse as a solo. The anthem was “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing,” and our Chinese angels sang splendidly. On Christmas morning the church members gave away free rice to five hundred poor people. So that altogether the boys, even if their Christmas was quieter than usual, have had something to remind them of the joy of this beautiful season. God Wants Them All