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The next morning, Christian awoke to a fresh blanket of snow. When looking out the window, Christian realized that it was not another thin glazing, the kind of snow that Nova Scotia had been getting this year.
Christian estimated a foot and a half, maybe two. He sighed, wondering how early it was. If he wasn’t already, his father would probably be up soon, making a quick breakfast for two and then sending Christian outside to do his chores.
He got up and made his bed, dressing quickly. It was then that he remembered the promise he had made to Jacqueline the day before. He sighed, realizing that he not asked his father if he could go to the play or not yet. He made a mental note to himself, reminding to bring up the discussion at breakfast.
Once he had gotten into the dining room, Christian saw that his father was already there. He didn’t look like he was in a very good mood. What does he have against me this time?
‘Good morning,’ said Mr. Scott in a casual tone. ‘Did you sleep alright?’
‘I slept fine.’ Christian sat down, taking in the aroma of fresh coffee and eggs. ‘I see it snowed last night, Father.’
‘It did. Are you excited?’ His father asked, taking a sip of coffee.
Christian bit into his eggs nervously. He knew he would have to ask if he could go sooner or later, because Jacqueline was sure to come, and he couldn’t leave her waiting.
‘Father, Jacqueline Hart was here yesterday.’
‘What did she want?’
‘Well, maple syrup. I sold her some, if that’s alright.’
‘You sold her some of my maple syrup without my permission?’ Mr. Scott’s voice was rising.
‘Well, I just thought, that it would be alright. I knew Jacqueline from school, and besides, I’m your son,’ said Christian coldly, mad that his father was getting angry over such a trivial matter.
‘Christian, it’s my syrup. Therefore, I have the final say in who I sell it to.’
Christian rolled his eyes. He figured that it would be best to drop the matter, as his father was never angry for very long.
‘Well, after buying the maple syrup, Jacqueline wanted me to go to production of the Christmas play with her in town tonight.’
After that, it was silent. Mr. Scott stared at his son for a few seconds. Neither person touched their food. Finally, he spoke.
‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘I’m not quite sure I want you around her.’
‘Why?’ It was then that Christmas came into Christian’s mind again. He thought back to yesterday afternoon, when he saw the boy in torn rags. Christmas was in two day. That day, he had formed a plan, and he had wanted Jacqueline to help him with it. Together they would go into town and talk to several of the citizens, collecting unwanted materials. Jacqueline’s fourteen-year-old brother, Edmund, was a skilled artist and carpenter, and Christian needed him, and therefore Jacqueline, to complete his plan. Now it couldn’t happen.
‘Because,’ said Mr. Scott, ‘women are nothing but trouble.’
Christian knew what his father was talking about. Six years ago, when Christian was eleven, his mother had vanished without a trace. There had been a note on the dining room table, stating that she had left and wasn’t coming back. ‘Just because you didn’t have much luck shouldn’t mean that I should never court or marry. Besides, it’s not much. She just asked me to go to a play with her.’
‘Are you sure that it is alright with her parents?’ asked Mr. Scott uncertainly.
‘Father,’ said Christian impatiently. ‘It’s fine.’
‘I said no.’
Christian frowned. It was two days until Christmas, and he got no after no from his father. If only he could have some time away—not just a few minutes but maybe an hour or two. Maybe he would go to the play anyway. Christian’s father was bound to get mad at him whatever he did, so Christian figured that he had nothing to lose.
After breakfast, the two went outside to do work. The day seemed to go on forever. They worked for a few hours, had a break for lunch, and then they were back to working.
Christian figured that Jacqueline would be arriving any minute. He not only had to slip away from his father, but also needed to make sure that Jacqueline would get to Rudolph’s pen without Mr. Scott seeing her.
‘Father,’ Christian said, ‘is it alright if we take a break for cocoa?’
Mr. Scott temporarily diverted his attention from his work.
‘Certainly, if you prepare it,’ said Mr. Scott.
Christian smiled and the two went inside. He already had everything planned out. He began to set out all of the ingredients on the counter, when he got the jar of sugar. It was perfectly full, but Christian was still confident his plan would work.
‘What do you know? We’re out of sugar.’
Mr. Scott frowned. ‘I thought that I just filled it.’
‘You did, but, it’s empty.’
‘I’ll go get some, then.’
‘No, I will,’ Christian offered, darting out the door before his father realized that he had been fooled.
He ran as fast as he could to Rudolph’s pen. Jacqueline wasn’t there yet, but Rudolph seemed very happy to see him.
‘Hey buddy,’ said Christian, stroking his fur. He turned to see a little figure in the distance, and as it got closer he could tell it was Jacqueline.
‘Hello!’ Jacqueline called.
‘Ssh,’ said Christian once she had arrived within normal talking distance. ‘I’m really not supposed to go with you, but I fooled my father. He thinks I’m getting sugar for hot cocoa. He’ll find out soon enough, so we need to hurry.’
‘Alright then,’ said Jacqueline quietly. ‘Let’s go. The play isn’t until seven, so you’ll be spending some time at my house, if that is alright.’
Christian smiled. Things seemed like they were working out after all. ‘That’s perfect.’
So, here are a few nitpicks: 
