There was no mistaking the delight in Leslie's eyes.
She dropped to her knees on the cold ground, picked the puppy up, and held it close to her face.
“Watch it,” Jess cautioned. “It sprays worse'n a water pistol.” Leslie moved it out a little way.
“Is it male or female?” Once in a rare while there was something he could teach Leslie.
“Boy,” he said happily. “Then we'll name him Prince Terrien and make him the guardian of Terabithia.”
She put the puppy down and got to her feet. “Where you going?” “To the grove of the pines,” she answered. “This is a time of greatest joy.”
Later that afternoon Leslie gave Jess his present.
It was a box of watercolors with twenty-four tubes of color and three brushes and a pad of heavy art paper.
“Lord,” he said. “Thank you.” He tried to think of a better way to say it, but he couldn't. “Thank you,” he repeated.
“It's not a great present like yours,” she said humbly, “but I hope you'll like it.”
He wanted to tell her how proud and good she made him feel,
that the rest of Christmas didn't matter because today had been so good, but the words he needed weren't there.
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