Christmas in Sweden: A Festival of Light

“A telegram for you, sir.” Elfreda, the pretty Swedish maid, handed the envelope to Professor Edgecombe as the family were seated at breakfast one spring morning. Telegrams were not unusual in that household, so Dorothy and John, the Professor’s children, scarcely heeded the interruption and were unprepared for the excitement which this particular bit of yellow paper aroused in their quiet home. When their father had read the message, he passed it across the table to his wife, who dropped the sugar-tongs in her eagerness, as soon as she had glanced at the message.

“Oh, George,” she cried, “it’s too good to be true that you really have the appointment.”

“What is it?” cried both children in chorus, distracted from their conversation by the unusual excitement of their little mother.

“It means that we are all going to Sweden to spend father’s sabbatical year,” replied their mother.

“All of us?” asked Dorothy quickly. She had not welcomed the period of rest called a sabbatical year which comes to most New England college professors once in seven years, because she remembered that many of her playmates had spent the year with relatives while their parents travelled in Europe, and home-loving little Dorothy dreaded a similar parting.

“Do you really mean that we are going too?” asked John incredulously.

“That’s exactly what your mother means,” said Professor Edgecombe. “Mother and I couldn’t go away for a year and leave you children at home. Besides it is not going to be entirely a year of rest for me, for this telegram has brought me an appointment to spend the year translating some stories of the old Norsemen into English. The old Icelandic document which I am to study is in Sweden and so we can settle there for the winter.”