Then it came: “Christmas. A heathenish name. Sacrilege. I will change that.” “That will be your legal right,” the matron said. “We are not interested in what they are called, but in how they are treated.” But the stranger was not listening to anyone anymore than he was talking to anyone. “From now on his name will be McEachern.” “That will be suitable,” the matron said. “To give him your name.” “He will eat my bread and he will observe my religion,” the stranger said. “Why should he not bear my name?” The child was not listening. He was not bothered. He did not especially care, anymore than if
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