In the pilot episode of the old television show The Waltons, the six Walton children have gathered outdoors in the cold and the snow, where a lady from a religious charity is handing out Christmas presents to the littler ones. The presents have been donated by people better off than almost anybody in their mountain village. She gives a present in exchange for a Bible verse. Mary Ellen, the oldest of the Walton girls, knows a lot of verses, not because she is pious, but because Mrs. Walton makes her memorize them when she has misbehaved or talked back to her elders, which is often. She’s the one to go to when you need a verse.
“That’s too long!” says one of the local boys. “Give me a shorter one.”
“Jesus wept,” says Mary Ellen.
That earns the boy a gift, and a look of pious ecstasy from the charitable lady. But things are not all well. When the smallest Walton, Elizabeth, about five years old, opens her present, it’s a porcelain baby doll with a crack and a large hole in the face.
“She’s dead!” the little girl cries in horror and dismay. We are to feel the shame of it, and
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