Fairies and the Christmas Child, The by Lilian Gask (1865 - 1942)

was rather frightening, used to ask how I expected to grow up without proper birthdays, and I thought I might have to stay little always. When I told Father this he laughed, but a moment later he grew quite grave.
“Listen, Chris,” he said. And then he took me on his knee - I was a small chap then - and told me things that made me forget old Naylor, and wish and wish that Mother could have stayed with us. The angels had wanted her, Father explained; well, we wanted her too, and there were plenty of angels in heaven, anyway. When I said this Father gave me a great squeeze and put me down, and I tried to be glad that I was a Christmas child. But I wasn’t really until a long time afterwards, when I had found the Fairy Ring, and met the Queen of the Fairies... (Summary by PG)