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       About Louisa May Alcott:

      Louisa May Alcott (November 29, 1832 – March 6, 1888) was an American novelist and poet best known as the author of the novel Little Women (1868) and its sequels Little Men (1871) and Jo's Boys (1886). Raised by her transcendentalist parents, Abigail May and Amos Bronson Alcott in New England, she also grew up among many of the well-known intellectuals of the day such as Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Henry David Thoreau and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

      Alcott's family suffered from financial difficulties, and while she worked to help support the family from an early age, she also sought an outlet in writing. She began to receive critical success for her writing in the 1860s. Early in her career, she sometimes used the pen name A. M. Barnard, under which she wrote novels for young adults that focused on spies, revenge, and cross dressers.

      Published in 1868, Little Women is set in the Alcott family home, Orchard House, in Concord, Massachusetts and is loosely based on Alcott's childhood experiences with her three sisters. The novel was very well received and is still a popular children's novel today, filmed several times.

      Alcott was an abolitionist and a feminist and remained unmarried throughout her life. She died from a stroke, two days after her father died, in Boston on March 6, 1888.

      Source: Wikipedia

      Becky's Christmas Dream

      Adapted by Stephen W. Hines

      Little Becky sat all alone by the kitchen fire, for everyone else had gone away to keep Christmas and left her to take care of the house. Nobody had thought to give her any presents or to take her to any merrymaking. Nor had they remembered that Christmas should be made a happy time to every child, whether poor or rich. She was only twelve years old—this little girl from the poorhouse, who was bound to work for the farmer's wife till she was eighteen. She had no father or mother, no friends or home but this, and, as she sat alone by the fire, her heart ached for someone to love and cherish her.

      Becky was a shy, quiet child, with a thin face and wistful eyes that always seemed trying to find something she wanted very much. She worked away, day after day, so patiently and silently that no one ever guessed what curious thoughts filled the little cropped head, or what a tender child's heart was hidden under the blue-checked pinafore.

      Tonight she was wishing that there were fairies in the world who would whisk down the chimney and give her quantities of pretty things, as they did in delightful fairy tales.

      "I'm sure I am as poor and lonely as Cinderella and need a kind godmother to help me as much as ever she did," said Becky to herself, as she sat on her little stool staring at the fire. She felt too much out of sorts to care whether things looked cheerful, and the fire did not burn brightly at all.

      There is an old belief that all dumb things can speak for one hour on Christmas Eve. Now Becky knew nothing of this story, and no one can say whether what happened was true or whether she fell asleep and dreamed it. This I do believe: all sorts of kindly spirits seem to fly about at Christmastime, putting good thoughts, merry words, and generous wishes into people's hearts. Maybe this accounts for some of the surprising and delightful things that happen then, making Christmas the happiest time of all the year.

      When Becky compared herself to Cinderella, she was amazed to hear a small voice reply:

      "Well, my dear, if you want advice, I shall be very glad to give you some, for I've had much experience in this trying world."