The children of Belgium will miss him as much as will the Germans. Though the Christmas tree is scarce in Belgium, Santa Claus is greatly beloved by them. Weeks before his coming the children are busy writing him letters telling him all about their good deeds, their wishes and their hopes, that they will not be neglected. The parents work hard to keep his coming a secret, but their little ones are so impatient they struggle to keep awake nights seeing what Santa Claus intends to bring them. Once in a great while they see him climbing down the chimneys, putting their toys before the grate and piling them high in their stockings. The parents make a hard fight to see that their children are remembered with some simple gift, for they know that their children are heartbroken if they are neglected altogether. An English author, S. R. Littlewood, tells the following story about a Belgium child's grief because she had been neglected by Santa Claus, the story of the poor widow and her daughter Julie: "It was Christmas Eve, but there was no Christmas party, no cakes and toys and imps, for they were penniless and starving. They had wandered through the snow all day and there was no one who would help. Weary and forlorn, numbed with the cold and fainting with hunger, they came back to their bare little attic with its broken windows, its hard pallet bed. But Julie kept up a brave heart. She had not lost faith. She, like the other children, would hang out her torn stocking. This she did and she prayed that Santa Claus would not forget; and while her mother slept she lay awake, wondering whether after all Santa Claus would come. She waited and waited, and sometimes she grew afraid, and even the sound of her breath startled her in the darkness and the silence. But it seemed that Santa Claus would never come. The old stocking hung limp and empty. As night wore on the air grew keener. The wind blew through the roof above her head, she could see a star shining. As it twinkled there alone in the far off depths of the sky, it seemed to be flashing her a message--a message of hope. Never had she seen so beautiful a star. Whilst she lay gazing it seemed to grow larger and more glorious. Could it be that it was coming nearer? At last it seemed to be close at hand--to fill the whole sky with light that streamed through the little gap above her and made a splendor even in that wretched garret. And now she sees that it is not really a star, but a little company of angels winging their way together to earth. In the midst is a chariot, drawn by white horses with wings and postillioned by a cherubim, and in the chariot--yes, it is Santa Claus. Just over the house the chariot and its escort stopped, the rent in the roof widened and Santa Claus came down. Gently, lovingly as a father, he took Julie in his arms, wrapped her in his great furred coat, set her in the chariot beside him and with the throng of angels soared heavenward