A LETTER TO HEAVEN.
Connected with the subject of French charity, I shall introduce the narrative of an incident of 1864, and I had several interviews and conversations of a very agreeable nature with the little heroine of the tale.
In one of the small old streets which adjoin the market of St. Honoré, upon the upper floor of a house built some centuries ago, the family of a poor workman were struck by a most fearful affliction. Not only had the wife been unable to rise from a bed of sickness for a considerable time, but the husband, the only support of her five children, had, by a sudden accident, been so disabled as to be stretched in utter helplessness and acute suffering. What was to be done? Where were the helpless creatures to find subsistence?
Amongst the children of this hapless couple there was a little blue-eyed, fair complexioned girl; she was lively, intelligent, and interesting, and had been for a short time attending a public school; but now she was obliged to remain at home to give her puny care to her sick parents. Afflicted by the misfortune of her father, and assailed even by hunger, she instinctively sought a remedy.
"When you are in trouble you should apply to the Good God; the sister at the school tells us so. Well, I shall address the Good God. I shall write a nice letter, such as my mother made me write to my godmother last Sunday. I have a bit of paper and a pen."
No sooner said than done. Whilst her parents are in an uneasy slumber, she scribbles a note abounding in blots, in which she implores of the Good God to restore their health, and to send some bread for her little brothers and herself. Then she slips out, runs at once to Saint-Roch, and supposing that the alms-box for the poor was the letter-box of the Good God, she approached it with timidity, and in the hope that she was not seen.
At this moment an aged and respectable lady was leaving the church. She was behind the little girl, and seeing her approach the alms-box stealthily, and supposing her actuated by some culpable motive, she caught hold of her arm.
"What are you doing, you unfortunate child?"
The little girl, surprised and affrighted, cast down her streaming eyes, but being kindly and mildly questioned by the lady, she recounted her sad story, and showed the letter which she wished to send to heaven.
The good lady, moved with compassion, consoled the poor child, and taking the paper, said—
"Leave me your letter; I take upon myself to forward it to its destination."
Then she immediately added, "But have you put your address, to receive the answer?"
The child, who looked upon the lady with the utmost astonishment, answered, "No, Madam; but the sister at my school tells us that the Good God knows everything."
"And she has told you the truth, my child" said the lady, smiling; "but those whom He may charge to deliver the answer may not know as well as He does."
The child then stated where her poor parents lived, received two francs from the lady, and with a joyous heart betook herself back to the wretched garret.
In the morning she found at her door a large hamper containing clothes, provisions, and some money. A label was affixed, inscribed, "The answer of the Good God."
A gentleman named M'Carthy, eminent for his medical skill, and also much respected for his generous and benevolent disposition, soon after, at the instance of the charitable lady, visited the poor sufferers. He was one of those Irishmen whose talents and worth attained to high professional positions in Paris. He speedily cured the man, and considerably alleviated the sufferings of the woman. He allowed me to accompany him two or three times whilst attending the humble denizens of the garret, from whence charity had removed misery and despair, and on those occasions I found the little girl fully convinced and most earnestly insisting, that the answer of the Good God must have been brought by one of His angels.