A Very Great Loss.
"Aunt Lucy," said Bolax one day. "I had a very important paper, and I cannot find it. I took such pains to write it because it was to go to Father Rocofort. Did you see it? You would know it was important because it was written without blots."
"Indeed, child, I did not see it, ask Hetty; she cleaned your room this morning."
"Hetty, Hetty," called Bo, "did you see a long narrow strip of paper about a yard long, with writing on it?"
"Yes, I done see a paper like dat; it was on the floor of you' room when I go clean it, and the puppy was a chewing of it. I done took it and put it under a book on your desk."
"Oh Hetty, why, oh, why did you let puppy chew up my paper? It had my sins on it."
"For de Lawd sake. Bolax! you' sins! Den I guess de poor little dog done pizened by dis time. I ain't seed him since he et up dem sins, three hours ago. I guess I'll find him lying dead somewheres."
"Hetty, you stop making fun of me; I'm in real earnest. Sins are things people only tell to the priest, or to their mothers, and I don't want mine to be blowing round for every one to see them."
After a great search, the paper was found and Bo inclosed it in a letter ready to send Father Rocofort. When his mother read the contents, she explained that he could not make a confession in that manner.
"Confession must be made on bended knees."
"Well, then Ma, dear, I can't go to town this week, as I have such a cold. I'm so sorry; Father will think I'm getting bad again."
St. Francis Xavier College.
Dear Little Friend:
Your letter of last week has not come to hand, so without waiting for it, I feel I ought to tell you the second thought that came to my mind when I read the letter which did reach me.
You may remember you said these words: "I did not disobey this week, because I was sick."
Now my thought was just this: From what this boy says it would appear that if he were in good health, he would have disobeyed. As disobedience is a sin; a great evil because displeasing to God. What a blessing it is to be sick, if one is thereby prevented from doing anything that is offensive to God.
You are perhaps too young to know that all things that come from God are good in themselves, since God, who sends them, is good.
Did you ever think that sickness, poverty, hunger, cold, sorrow and suffering could be good? Perhaps not. It is hard for a small boy to see that what he does not like, can be good. But if God likes a thing, it must be good, and if God dislikes a thing, it must be bad.
Please try to understand all this, and you will become a good boy and a good man.
Your friend in Christ,
Aloysius Rocofort, S. J.
September 1st.
Dear Rev. Father:
I wish you would be so kind as to pray I may be sent to a Catholic school, there is none in our town for boys, but maybe I could get to St. Thomas' College, if they would only take me.
Mamma and Papa thank you so much for writing to me. Indeed it is kind, and it must take up your time. I shall always keep your letters; I love them.
Papa says it is wonderful that the President of a college would bother writing to a little boy.
Your loving little friend,
B. Allen.
St. Francis Xavier College.
My Dear Little Friend:
Having been very busy during the week, I have not been able to make an earlier reply to your little biography of the week. One or two thoughts that came to my mind as I read your words is, I think, worth putting on paper.
You seemed to think it remarkable that a man of my age, education and busy life should trouble himself about a little boy. Now I thought you a strange little boy for that, and for this reason. You are a Christian, believing and knowing that Christ died for you; gave His heart's blood for your eternal happiness.
Knowing this as I do, and meditating on the life and work of Christ, and striving so hard to imitate him; do you think it strange that I should take an interest in you, when you allow me? It would be indeed strange if I did not wish to see you grow up a good docile, obedient, kind and high-principled boy, and a brave, true, upright, high-souled man, and do all in my power, as far as you will allow to bring about such a result.
God wants that, your parents hope it; you yourself would like it, if you could get it by wishing, or if it did not cost you any trouble. But it does cost trouble, though it is worth a thousand troubles.
Your friend in Christ,
Aloysius Rocofort, S. J.
P. S.—I will indeed pray that you may be admitted into St. Thomas', although in your case, with such a mother to guide you, the public school might be tolerated.