Christmas at Red Butte Read-Along

Christmas at Red Butte Read-Along

This is where we’ll read “Christmas at Red Butte” by L. M. Montgomery. This charming vintage Christmas story will get you thinking about gifts…but not in the way you expect.

Here’s a short video that’ll introduce you to the author and the story—and give you an overview of how the read-along works.

Lucy Maud Montgomery is most famous for her eight-book Anne of Green Gables series, but she published over 530 short stories, 500 poems, 30 essays, and 20 novels during her career, which spanned from 1908 to 1939.

She penned this little Christmas story in 1909 when she was 35 years old.

“Christmas at Red Butte” takes place in Saskatchewan, Canada, which is slightly closer to the Pacific coast and just north of Montana and North Dakota. We aren’t told, but we can assume the story takes place in the early 1900s when it was written.

Most of the action takes place in a little log house just outside the fictional small town of Spencer.

Here’s the plan for reading ‘Christmas at Red Butte

We’re going to read about 550 words at a time, and then we’re going to ask ourselves three simple questions:

  1. What do we know?
  2. What are we curious about?
  3. Where do we think is the story headed?

These are the three questions that George Saunders uses in his page-at-a-time reading technique, as described in A Swim in a Pond in the Rain. I like these three questions because, first of all, they’re straightforward and nonacademic, and, second, they force me to slow down and notice how I’m reading the story and reacting to it.

Read Along With Your Friends and Students

“Christmas at Red Butte” is a cozy little Christmas story that you can read with your book club near the holidays. 

It’s also a fun story to read alongside your students in homeschool, a co-op language arts class, or a traditional classroom.

Click the button right there 👇 for a PDF that includes the full text of the short story.

Part 1: Christmas at Red Butte

“Of course Santa Claus will come,” said Jimmy Martin confidently. Jimmy was ten, and at ten it is easy to be confident. “Why, he’s got to come because it is Christmas Eve, and he always has come. You know that, twins.”

Yes, the twins knew it and, cheered by Jimmy’s superior wisdom, their doubts passed away. There had been one terrible moment when Theodora had sighed and told them they mustn’t be too much disappointed if Santa Claus did not come this year because the crops had been poor, and he mightn’t have had enough presents to go around.

“That doesn’t make any difference to Santa Claus,” scoffed Jimmy. “You know as well as I do, Theodora Prentice, that Santa Claus is rich whether the crops fail or not. They failed three years ago, before Father died, but Santa Claus came all the same. Prob’bly you don’t remember it, twins, ’cause you were too little, but I do. Of course he’ll come, so don’t you worry a mite. And he’ll bring my skates and your dolls. He knows we’re expecting them, Theodora, ’cause we wrote him a letter last week, and threw it up the chimney. And there’ll be candy and nuts, of course, and Mother’s gone to town to buy a turkey. I tell you we’re going to have a ripping Christmas.”

“Well, don’t use such slangy words about it, Jimmy-boy,” sighed Theodora. She couldn’t bear to dampen their hopes any further, and perhaps Aunt Elizabeth might manage it if the colt sold well. But Theodora had her painful doubts, and she sighed again as she looked out of the window far down the trail that wound across the prairie, red-lighted by the declining sun of the short wintry afternoon.

“Do people always sigh like that when they get to be sixteen?” asked Jimmy curiously. “You didn’t sigh like that when you were only fifteen, Theodora. I wish you wouldn’t. It makes me feel funny—and it’s not a nice kind of funniness either.”

“It’s a bad habit I’ve got into lately,” said Theodora, trying to laugh. “Old folks are dull sometimes, you know, Jimmy-boy.”

“Sixteen is awful old, isn’t it?” said Jimmy reflectively. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do when I’m sixteen, Theodora. I’m going to pay off the mortgage, and buy mother a silk dress, and a piano for the twins. Won’t that be elegant? I’ll be able to do that ’cause I’m a man. Of course if I was only a girl I couldn’t.”

“I hope you’ll be a good kind brave man and a real help to your mother,” said Theodora softly, sitting down before the cosy fire and lifting the fat little twins into her lap.

“Oh, I’ll be good to her, never you fear,” assured Jimmy, squatting comfortably down on the little fur rug before the stove—the skin of the coyote his father had killed four years ago. “I believe in being good to your mother when you’ve only got the one. Now tell us a story, Theodora—a real jolly story, you know, with lots of fighting in it. Only please don’t kill anybody. I like to hear about fighting, but I like to have all the people come out alive.”

Theodora laughed, and began a story about the Riel Rebellion of ’85—a story which had the double merit of being true and exciting at the same time. It was quite dark when she finished, and the twins were nodding, but Jimmy’s eyes were wide open and sparkling.

“That was great,” he said, drawing a long breath. “Tell us another.”

“No, it’s bedtime for you all,” said Theodora firmly. “One story at a time is my rule, you know.”

What do we know?

  • It’s Christmas Eve, and the kids (like all kids) are wondering if Santa will bring gifts. So far, we’ve got Theodora Prentice (age 16), Jimmy Martin (10), the twins who are younger.
  • Doubt enters in the form of Theodora’s “sighs” because she’s worried that Christmas morning won’t live up to the children’s hopes. The crops were bad, and Theodora is old enough to know what that means. At 16, Theodora is pretty much an adult. At 16, Anne Shirley took the job as teacher at Avonlea school.
  • Jimmy is full of confidence that it will all turn out well and there is a nostalgia I feel when I hear him talk. He believes, “There is a beneficent force that will bestow good upon us no matter how bad the crop that year.” Is his childlike faith a beautiful thing to preserve, or is it a naive thing to outgrow? 
  • It’s a one-parent household. Father died four years ago.
  • Theodora has a different last name than Jimmy. Are they related?
  • In this segment, Montgomery seems to be juxtaposing Reality vs. Fantasy. Is that the same thing as Doubt vs. Hope? We’re not sure.
    1. Jimmy wants a story that fulfills his exacting wishes (lots of conflict but everyone lives, so it all turns out okay). Theodora chooses to tell them a true story instead of some type of Christmas-themed fiction. Is that because she doesn’t want to feed their hopes further?

What are we curious about?

  • Will it all turn out okay? Will the kids belief and hope get crushed? Or will it survive?
  • Will the colt sell well enough to buy presents?
  • What is the Riel Rebellion? Historic note: The “Riel Rebellion” (also called the North-West Rebellion) was a failed Indian uprising in 1885 by the Métis people under Louis Riel, and an associated uprising by First Nations Cree and Assiniboine against the Canadian Government.

Where do we think is the story headed?

  • Best-case dream come true: Mother gets a great price for the colt and comes home laden with Christmas goodies.
    1. Even though this is the best outcome for the little family, it’s actually the leaset interesting option for the story from our perspective as readers. If this happens, the story ends. We know this probably isn’t going to happen.
  • More likely: Mother doesn’t get the money needed to give the kids the jolly Christmas they’re hoping for.
    1. This is more likely because it’ll lead to an escalation of events. If there isn’t going to be enough money for Christmas, then what?

Part 2: Christmas at Red Butte

“But I want to sit up till Mother comes home,” objected Jimmy.

“You can’t. She may be very late, for she would have to wait to see Mr. Porter. Besides, you don’t know what time Santa Claus might come—if he comes at all. If he were to drive along and see you children up instead of being sound asleep in bed, he might go right on and never call at all.”

This argument was too much for Jimmy.

“All right, we’ll go. But we have to hang up our stockings first. Twins, get yours.”

The twins toddled off in great excitement, and brought back their Sunday stockings, which Jimmy proceeded to hang along the edge of the mantel shelf. This done, they all trooped obediently off to bed. Theodora gave another sigh, and seated herself at the window, where she could watch the moonlit prairie for Mrs. Martin’s homecoming and knit at the same time.

I am afraid that you will think from all the sighing Theodora was doing that she was a very melancholy and despondent young lady. You couldn’t think anything more unlike the real Theodora. She was the jolliest, bravest girl of sixteen in all Saskatchewan, as her shining brown eyes and rosy, dimpled cheeks would have told you; and her sighs were not on her own account, but simply for fear the children were going to be disappointed. She knew that they would be almost heartbroken if Santa Claus did not come, and that this would hurt the patient hardworking little mother more than all else.

Five years before this, Theodora had come to live with Uncle George and Aunt Elizabeth in the little log house at Red Butte. Her own mother had just died, and Theodora had only her big brother Donald left, and Donald had Klondike fever. The Martins were poor, but they had gladly made room for their little niece, and Theodora had lived there ever since, her aunt’s right-hand girl and the beloved playmate of the children. They had been very happy until Uncle George’s death two years before this Christmas Eve; but since then there had been hard times in the little log house, and though Mrs. Martin and Theodora did their best, it was a woefully hard task to make both ends meet, especially this year when their crops had been poor. Theodora and her aunt had made every sacrifice possible for the children’s sake, and at least Jimmy and the twins had not felt the pinch very severely yet.

At seven Mrs. Martins bells jingled at the door and Theodora flew out. “Go right in and get warm, Auntie,” she said briskly. “I’ll take Ned away and unharness him.”

“It’s a bitterly cold night,” said Mrs. Martin wearily. There was a note of discouragement in her voice that struck dismay to Theodora’s heart.

“I’m afraid it means no Christmas for the children tomorrow,” she thought sadly, as she led Ned away to the stable. When she returned to the kitchen Mrs. Martin was sitting by the fire, her face in her chilled hand, sobbing convulsively.

“Auntie—oh, Auntie, don’t!” exclaimed Theodora impulsively. It was such a rare thing to see her plucky, resolute little aunt in tears. “You’re cold and tired—I’ll have a nice cup of tea for you in a trice.”

“No, it isn’t that,” said Mrs. Martin brokenly “It was seeing those stockings hanging there. Theodora, I couldn’t get a thing for the children—not a single thing. Mr. Porter would only give forty dollars for the colt, and when all the bills were paid there was barely enough left for such necessaries as we must have. I suppose I ought to feel thankful I could get those. But the thought of the children’s disappointment tomorrow is more than I can bear. It would have been better to have told them long ago, but I kept building on getting more for the colt. Well, it’s weak and foolish to give way like this. We’d better both take a cup of tea and go to bed. It will save fuel.”

What do we know now and how have our perceptions changed?

  • We learn Theodora is an orphan. She has a brother named Donald who left for the Klondike gold rush. It’s not an actual fever, just the itch to get rich.
  • The Martins took Theodora in as one of their own family and loved her. The little kids are obedient. Theodora and Mother have sacrificed and worked in spite of great sadness.
  • This passage makes us fall in love MORE with these kids and this family. It tugs on our heartstrings because we realize the hardship they’ve been through and how worthy they are of getting some kind of a break.
  • Mother broke down at the sight of the Christmas stockings—that cheerful expectation that she herself played into is now going to be dashed. She refuses to indulge in too much emotion. Even at the conclusion of her crying, Mother says it’ll save fuel, which means thoughts of frugality are never far from her mind.
  • Notice: Montgomery addresses the reader as “you” Perhaps this is to give the flavor of a fireside tale like one Theodora herself might tell.

What are we curious about now? Where do we think is the story headed now?

  • What role will Theodora play in all of this? She seems to be the one we’re tracking the most so far, as she’s been in every scene. The kids can do nothing. Mrs. Martin has done all she can. As readers, we suspect that Theodora will be the next to take action since the others cannot.

Part 3: Christmas at Red Butte

When Theodora went up to her little room her face was very thoughtful. She took a small box from her table and carried it to the window. In it was a very pretty little gold locket hung on a narrow blue ribbon. Theodora held it tenderly in her fingers, and looked out over the moonlit prairie with a very sober face. Could she give up her dear locket—the locket Donald had given her just before he started for the Klondike? She had never thought she could do such a thing. It was almost the only thing she had to remind her of Donald—handsome, merry, impulsive, warmhearted Donald, who had gone away four years ago with a smile on his bonny face and splendid hope in his heart.

“Here’s a locket for you, Gift o’ God,” he had said gaily—he had such a dear loving habit of calling her by the beautiful meaning of her name. A lump came into Theodora’s throat as she remembered it. “I couldn’t afford a chain too, but when I come back I’ll bring you a rope of Klondike nuggets for it.”

Then he had gone away. For two years letters had come from him regularly. Then he wrote that he had joined a prospecting party to a remote wilderness. After that was silence, deepening into anguish of suspense that finally ended in hopelessness. A rumour came that Donald Prentice was dead. None had returned from the expedition he had joined. Theodora had long ago given up all hope of ever seeing Donald again. Hence her locket was doubly dear to her.

But Aunt Elizabeth had always been so good and loving and kind to her. Could she not make the sacrifice for her sake? Yes, she could and would. Theodora flung up her head with a gesture that meant decision. She took out of the locket the bits of hair—her mother’s and Donald’s—which it contained (perhaps a tear or two fell as she did so) and then hastily donned her warmest cap and wraps. It was only three miles to Spencer; she could easily walk it in an hour and, as it was Christmas Eve, the shops would be open late. She must walk, for Ned could not be taken out again, and the mare’s foot was sore. Besides, Aunt Elizabeth must not know until it was done.

As stealthily as if she were bound on some nefarious errand, Theodora slipped downstairs and out of the house. The next minute she was hurrying along the trail in the moonlight. The great dazzling prairie was around her, the mystery and splendour of the northern night all about her. It was very calm and cold, but Theodora walked so briskly that she kept warm. The trail from Red Butte to Spencer was a lonely one. Mr. Lurgan’s house, halfway to town, was the only dwelling on it.

When Theodora reached Spencer she made her way at once to the only jewellery store the little town contained. Mr. Benson, its owner, had been a friend of her uncle’s, and Theodora felt sure that he would buy her locket. Nevertheless her heart beat quickly, and her breath came and went uncomfortably fast as she went in. Suppose he wouldn’t buy it. Then there would be no Christmas for the children at Red Butte.

What do we know now and how have our perceptions changed?

  • Our respect and admiration for Theodora continue to rise, and we hope she’ll be rewarded for her act of selflessness in selling the locket. 
  • She experiences a tension between loyalty and love for the dead and loyalty and love for the living. This is something that we as humans often grapple with in many ways. We often cling to sometimes very prosaic objects that, to us, represent our loved ones, and it’s interesting that we do this. We can make tiny idols of these possessions. An idol wants to be served and cherished and petted. A gift is the opposite. It’s entire purpose is to serve others, and Theodora refuses to idolize the locket when she can use it to bestow goodness on others.
  • We learn that Theodora’s name means Gift O God. Why include that detail? It’s probably more than just to show us Donald’s personality because it’s Christmas and everything so far has related back to needing gifts for the kids. And Montgomery could’ve chosen ANY name with ANY meaning. 
  • There’s a comparison here between Gifts and gifts. Gift O God = a godsend, something divine. This pales in comparison to the earthly gifts we wrap and put under the tree. Theodora is willing to give up a gift in order to BE a gift to her family.

What are we curious about now?

  • Why not tell Aunt Elizabeth what she’s doing? Most likely because the good woman would try to stop her and then blame herself again for making Theodora consider parting with her beloved locket.
  • Will Mr. Benson buy the locket?

Where do we think is the story headed now?

  • If Mr. Benson DOES buy the locket, and he offers enough for it, then Theodora will be able to buy things for the kids for Christmas, and that’ll work out nice, but will the story end there without any further complication? If he doesn’t buy it, or he doesn’t offer enough, then what will Theodora do next? 
  • There is a third option: Theodora somehow gets the money or the gifts she needs WITHOUT having to part with the locket. This would be awesome, but perhaps a bit too tidy for us as readers. 

Part 4: Christmas at Red Butte

“Good evening, Miss Theodora,” said Mr. Benson briskly. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m afraid I’m not a very welcome sort of customer, Mr. Benson,” said Theodora, with an uncertain smile. “I want to sell, not buy. Could you—will you buy this locket?”

Mr. Benson pursed up his lips, took up the locket, and examined it. “Well, I don’t often buy second-hand stuff,” he said, after some reflection, “but I don’t mind obliging you, Miss Theodora. I’ll give you four dollars for this trinket.”

Theodora knew the locket had cost a great deal more than that, but four dollars would get what she wanted, and she dared not ask for more. In a few minutes the locket was in Mr. Benson’s possession, and Theodora, with four crisp new bills in her purse, was hurrying to the toy store. Half an hour later she was on her way back to Red Butte, with as many parcels as she could carry—Jimmy’s skates, two lovely dolls for the twins, packages of nuts and candy, and a nice plump turkey. Theodora beguiled her lonely tramp by picturing the children’s joy in the morning.

About a quarter of a mile past Mr. Lurgan’s house the trail curved suddenly about a bluff of poplars. As Theodora rounded the turn she halted in amazement. Almost at her feet the body of a man was lying across the road. He was clad in a big fur coat, and had a fur cap pulled well down over his forehead and ears. Almost all of him that could be seen was a full bushy beard. Theodora had no idea who he was, or where he had come from. But she realized that he was unconscious, and that he would speedily freeze to death if help were not brought. The footprints of a horse galloping across the prairie suggested a fall and a runaway, but Theodora did not waste time in speculation. She ran back at full speed to Mr. Lurgan’s, and roused the household. In a few minutes Mr. Lurgan and his son had hitched a horse to a wood-sleigh, and hurried down the trail to the unfortunate man.

Theodora, knowing that her assistance was not needed, and that she ought to get home as quickly as possible, went on her way as soon as she had seen the stranger in safe keeping. When she reached the little log house she crept in, cautiously put the children’s gifts in their stockings, placed the turkey on the table where Aunt Elizabeth would see it the first thing in the morning, and then slipped off to bed, a very weary but very happy girl.

The joy that reigned in the little log house the next day more than repaid Theodora for her sacrifice.

What do we know now and how have our perceptions changed?

  • Montgomery allows things to work out for Theodora in that she successfully sells the locket and gets the gifts, just as she planned. That’s the sweet, satisfying thing we were hoping for. But Montgomery doesn’t leave us there long. Quickly, she introduces an unconscious man on the road.
  • Theodora gets help—her quick, right-minded reaction is no surprise given what we already know about her.

What are we curious about now?

  • The last line (the joy that reigned…) tells us that everything went as planned Christmas morning, so…the only thing left is…
  • This man. He’s obviously significant. Who is he?

Where do we think is the story headed now?

  • Anything could happen, really. Does what’s happened in the story so far point you in any way toward the identity of the man?

Part 5: Christmas at Red Butte

“Whoopee, didn’t I tell you that Santa Claus would come all right!” shouted the delighted Jimmy. “Oh, what splendid skates!”

The twins hugged their dolls in silent rapture, but Aunt Elizabeth’s face was the best of all.

Then the dinner had to be prepared, and everybody had a hand in that. Just as Theodora, after a grave peep into the oven, had announced that the turkey was done, a sleigh dashed around the house. Theodora flew to answer the knock at the door, and there stood Mr. Lurgan and a big, bewhiskered, fur-coated fellow whom Theodora recognized as the stranger she had found on the trail. But—was he a stranger? There was something oddly familiar in those merry brown eyes. Theodora felt herself growing dizzy.

“Donald!” she gasped. “Oh, Donald!”

And then she was in the big fellow’s arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

Donald it was indeed. And then followed half an hour during which everybody talked at once, and the turkey would have been burned to a crisp had it not been for the presence of mind of Mr. Lurgan who, being the least excited of them all, took it out of the oven, and set it on the back of the stove.

“To think that it was you last night, and that I never dreamed it,” exclaimed Theodora. “Oh, Donald, if I hadn’t gone to town!”

“I’d have frozen to death, I’m afraid,” said Donald soberly. “I got into Spencer on the last train last night. I felt that I must come right out—I couldn’t wait till morning. But there wasn’t a team to be got for love or money—it was Christmas Eve and all the livery rigs were out. So I came on horseback. Just by that bluff something frightened my horse, and he shied violently. I was half asleep and thinking of my little sister, and I went off like a shot. I suppose I struck my head against a tree. Anyway, I knew nothing more until I came to in Mr. Lurgan’s kitchen. I wasn’t much hurt—feel none the worse of it except for a sore head and shoulder. But, oh, Gift o’ God, how you have grown! I can’t realize that you are the little sister I left four years ago. I suppose you have been thinking I was dead?”

“Yes, and, oh, Donald, where have you been?”

“Well, I went way up north with a prospecting party. We had a tough time the first year, I can tell you, and some of us never came back. We weren’t in a country where post offices were lying round loose either, you see. Then at last, just as we were about giving up in despair, we struck it rich. I’ve brought a snug little pile home with me, and things are going to look up in this log house, Gift o’ God. There’ll be no more worrying for you dear people over mortgages.”

“I’m so glad—for Auntie’s sake,” said Theodora, with shining eyes. “But, oh, Donald, it’s best of all just to have you back. I’m so perfectly happy that I don’t know what to do or say.”

“Well, I think you might have dinner,” said Jimmy in an injured tone. “The turkey’s getting stone cold, and I’m most starving. I just can’t stand it another minute.”

So, with a laugh, they all sat down to the table and ate the merriest Christmas dinner the little log house had ever known.

How do you feel about the ending? 

  • It wraps up quite nicely, doesn’t it? Everyone is happy at the moment, and future happiness is promised. Donald brings not only financial stability, but he’ll likely serve as their male protector and advocate, which was very important back then. In a sense, he completes their family. We resonate with this idea of “what was lost is now found” or “what was broken is now fixed.” 
  • This might veer too far on the sweet side for some readers. Are you one of them? Or do you like these tidy endings?

So what? Why does this story matter?

  • Again, we see the contrast between gifts and Gifts of God. Theodora was willing to sacrifice something very dear to her in order to give gifts to her family. In return, she receives a true Gift of God in her brother’s return. Even when he promises them money and security, she says, “it’s best of all just to have you back.” Theodora keeps her heart in the right place. There are material gifts, and those are nice, but it’s the Gifts of God that matter most. I love that theme!