To me, Christmas is the most wonderful day in the year. To hosts of boys and girls throughout the world, it is the happiest day. But there are other little folks -- all too many of them -- who do not know Its meaning, and whom Santa Claus seems to have quite forgotten.

This fact was brought home to me very forcibly during my first few years at the clinic. Just before Christmas, a boy of seven years came with his sister, a little girl of five, for treatment. Both the children were thinly clad and far from clean, and seemed to feel perfectly at home near a warm radiator. There was nothing wrong with the girl's eyes, but the boy had a severe inflammation of the eyelids, along with a slight squint of the right eye, I was not surprised to find later that this inflammation was caused by uncleanliness. Before treating him I asked him what he expected from Santa Claue. He looked up at me and said:

"Oh, he ain't never came to our house. I only sees him in the store windows."

"But you do have a Christmas tree on Christmas eve, don't you?" I asked.

"Nope," said he, "we never had none."

I began to think I wanted to use my influence with Santa Claus on behalf of this neglected child, but ray present thought was to treat him. No, I did not begin with panning this tune. I washed his eyes and face with water, and judging by the color of the towel, when the operation was over, I should say that he had not been washed for a week or more. I tested his sight, and with both eyes he read the ten line at fifteen feet. Then I covered his good eye, and with the squinting eye, the right, he read the seventy line (15/70). I taught him how to palm, and while his eyes were covered, I told him the story of the Babe of Bethlehem. This worked like a charm, and in a very short time his right eye improved to 15/30. I promised him that Santa Claus would surely have a present for him at Christmas time if he would cover his eyes to rest them many times every day.

The progress he made was good. A week later he read 15/15 with the right eye, and only at intervals did the eye turn in when he began to strain, X learned later that his father was in jail for theft. He had to mother his little sister and baby brother, who sat in a high chair most of the day, while his sickly mother went out to work. Yet he found time to practice. Before Christmas he had normal vision in both eyes, though the right eye turned in at times the least little bit. As for the inflammation, it had completely disappeared under the influence of the sun treatment and the daily use of water.

The day before Christmas I purchased a Christmas tree with some trimmings, and filled a ba*k«t with good thing* to tat. I ulio h*d a little gift for each chtld in the family. On Christmas eve I brought them to his home. The poverty I found there wrung my heart, but I had the pleasure of knowing that the children at least would have a happy Christmas. The sight of the Christmas tree filled them with rapture too great for speech, and the gratitude of the mother was pathetic. She was thin and qareworn, she hardly ate her share of the hot meal I helped her prepare. Not once did she speak of her husband, but I have a suspicion that she loved him.

Shortly afterward the boy's visits to the clinic ceased, and on going to his home again, I found the scanty belongings of the family upon the sidewalk, all covered with freshly fallen snow. I tried to find them, for I wanted so much to help them if I could, but my efforts were in vain. Next day I returned and was told by the neighbors that the mother was in a hospital and that the children had been placed by a charitable society in an institution.

I never saw nor heard of my patient again, but he inspired me with the idea to make my big family at the clinic happy. Since then, every child and adult who came to us was remembered in some way at Christmas time, although we were not permitted to have a tree at the hospital. Incidently, I found that speaking of Santa Claus was an invaluable aid in helping the eyes. Mothers often warned me that their children would not obey my directions. I would listen, of course, and then I would talk baseball or Santa Claus, according to the season of the year. The scheme never failed to bring good results. I have known the most restless of small boys to sit on a stool, or »tand in a corner, for ten mlnutes or longer without moving, while X would tell the story of "The Night Before Christmas." It is also astonishing how much interest a small boy takes in baseball. Nine times out of ten when I ask a boy to imagine something perfectly, he will say:

"I can imagine a baseball very well."

I think if Babe Ruth knew how my boys admired him, he would provide more seats for them at some of his games, and I think, too, that he wouldn't mind playing Santa Claus and providing baseballs for some of my patients, as he has for many other boys. I am sure nothing would make them happier, even though baseballs are of little use in a city that does not provide enough playgrounds for its children.

Santa Claus, as I said, is a fair rival of baseball, and appeals to girls and boys alike. I begin during the month of September to talk of the visits he makes to the clinic every year, and the result is magical.

Joseph, nine years old, waa quite unmanageable at first, and could not be enticed to palm, nor even to stand still long enough for me to test his sight. At one time I got tired of coaxing him, and told him to wait until others had been treated. His mother, a very nervous woman, wanted to thrash him, but the little fellow didn't seem to mind that a bit. He had been sent by a school nurse for glasses. His eyes were so sensitive to light, that he could only partly open them. When I was able to get back to him I said:

"If you will read this card for me and do as I tell you, I will have you come here the day before Christmas, when Santa Claus will give you something nice."

The suggestion worked splendidly. He read the card with both eyes together and with each eye separately, getting most of the letters on the forty line at fifteen feet. He palmed when I showed him how, and before he left, his sight had improved to 15/20. After he had palmed for ten minutes or longer, his mother remarked how wide his eyes opened. Joseph came quite regularly after that, and was grateful for the gift Santa Claus brought htm at Christmas time. Even though he was cured in a few weeks, he continued to come, just to say "Hello" to the doctor and myself.

Shortly before Christmas I treated a little girl whose age I cannot exactly remember, I should imagine that she was nine or ten years old. Her wistful eyes looked up into mine, and I surmised that she was very poor and lonely. She told me that her mother and father were both dead, and that a kind neighbor, who already had nine children, was mothering her too. I knew just what I would like to have Santa Claus give her, and tried to figure out just how much I could stretch my Christmas fund, so that I could buy clothes and shoes for this little girl. It could not be done, because I was poor myself. However, I doubt if these useful things would have made her as happy as did the dolly and the necklace which I ultimately gave her, and which cost only a trifle. She was so overcome with joy that she could scarcely talk.

There was nothing seriously wrong with her eyes, but she was under a nervous strain which caused her sight to blur at times. This I soon corrected, and she was very happy when told that she did not need glasses.