Our dearest friends and
companions were politely sorry we had missed something, they did not
know what--and that was all. They had no more conception of what
Christmas meant to us than of what the Passover means to Israel.
Our box was filled Christmas goodies, olecokes and crullers, candies and
cookies and all the fifty-seven varieties of Dutch dainties proper to
the season; and on New Year's eve good Mrs. Rykman made this store of
sweets the nucleus of an impromptu feast designed for our comfort and
consolation. It was well meant and well managed and the kindly feeling
manifested made up in part for the disappointment we had experienced;
but the Christmas of that year was a dead loss--a loss that I regret to
this day.
At Brook Farm, however, there was small chance to indulge in regrets and
the Christmas trouble had to give place to more immediate interests. The
Farmers were, first of all, Transcendentalists which is to say they were
philosophers and not given to repining. Their philosophy was not stated
in their public announcements but was expressed in their lives.
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