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33 chapter eleven Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree, how are thy leaves so verdant, Lucy sang as she placed strands of tinsel one by one, one by one, on the branches. In the brown den with its brown curtains and beige rug, the green tree glowed in the corner, lit by the roaring fire Lucy’s mother had built. Lucy lifted her rapt face to the top of the tree where Mrs Gold had perched not a star, but a dog—more precisely a photograph of a dachshund pasted on cardboard . At Lucy’s feet the family dog, Gretel, leapt and leapt and leapt and leapt at the tinsel. Laughing, Lucy continued to decorate the tree with the silver strands. Ketzia also was helping to decorate the tree, or so it seemed; for she had mysteriously held the same ornament, a glass angel with crown, in her hand for nearly an hour and had not hung it at all. Every now and then she would hold it up to a branch, begin to place the tiny metal loop there, and then shake her head and step back as if startled, only to stare at the tree again for a while. From time to time, Merry came in, crossed her arms on her chest, and either nodded or shook her head, and then left the room. “How about hanging it here?” Lucy asked Ketzia, pointing to a bare branch at the front of the tree, which struck Lucy as a particularly choice spot for the angel. 34 Ketzia began to hang the angel there, and then withdrew her hand. She crept around to the back of the tree, which was entirely empty, facing the wall. “I think maybe back here?”she said. “I think the tree is lonely back here.” Lucy watched as her sister hung the angel at last. Poor Ketzia! she thought. So . . . sensitive . . . so . . . weak. It wasn’t normal to have to help your older sister fend for herself: that was supposed to be Ketzia’s job, wasn’t it, to help Lucy? And she knew never to ask Merry for anything . Thankfully, Lucy didn’t need help. With her shiny brown hair and green eyes and her butterfly-grace, Lucy attracted only approval wherever she went—but she hardly noticed, as is the way of the pretty, not knowing what it was like to be looked at with pity for poor fortune in looks. Lucy reached down and patted Gretel. Dear Gretel! Dear dog! Oh Gretel, she thought, kneeling down to hug her long body. Oh Gretel Gretel Gretel Gretel! Oh Gretel dog oh Gretel dog, how I love thy fu-u-ur,she sang,so happy, so glad. It was Christmas again! ...

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