The Chaplain's Address to the First Communicants.
Dear children I do not intend speaking to you of Faith. I am sure yours is firm and sincere. I come only to remind you of your promises made to our blessed Lord this morning, to ask you to fill your hearts to overflowing with love. Love for our merciful Jesus in all stages of His life and death, but particularly love for Him in the divine Sacrament.
Love makes all things easy! so dear children, never tire asking the Blessed Mother of Jesus to give you of the love which filled her heart, that yours may ever be adorned with the virtues which will make it a fit abiding place for your merciful and sweet Saviour.
Love for Jesus will give you patience to bear with the contradictions and crosses you meet with; even little children have crosses. They may be reprimanded for a fault which another committed; bear the reproof patiently for the love of Jesus; a companion may be harsh and unjust towards you, be glad that you have something to suffer for love of Jesus. A bouquet of sacrifices to offer at the end of each day, will be more acceptable than if it were the most exquisite flowers culled from your gardens.
Dearest children come as often as you can to the Holy Table, don't be afraid—don't think of your unworthiness, no one ever was entirely worthy of Holy Communion, except the Blessed Mother of Jesus.
Come! I say, eat this heavenly bread that you may be strong to resist all temptations, that you may learn to love our Lord devotedly on earth, so as to be prepared for an eternity of love in Heaven.
[CHAPTER XIII.]
Unforseen Events.
After all the exercises had been performed, Mrs. Allen and the children bade farewell to the Sisters, and Reverend Mother gave them a pressing invitation to visit the Convent often.
When our friends reached Midville Station, Papa Allen was waiting for them with the carriage, which soon brought them to "Home, Sweet Home," as Bo sung out, when he saw Aunt Lucy, Uncle Dick and Hetty standing at the gate.
Bo hugged every one, including Don, when that, too demonstrative beast gave him a chance to notice any one but his own dogship.
Uncle Dick declared he never again would complain of noise for "the house has been like a desert without our harum-scarum."
Amy and her brother kept together as much as possible during the remainder of the summer. The pony chaise was in demand every afternoon, and the children always invited a few of their friends to enjoy a drive with them.
One day Mrs. Allen filled a basket with roses, which she gave to Amy, saying: "I wonder if you and Bolax wouldn't like to take these up to Grandma Barton." Allie Thornton, who was present, asked: "Is she your real Grandma?" "Oh, no," answered Amy; "she is a poor old lady, nearly blind, to whom Mamma sends things; we love to go to see her." "Let me carry the basket to the chaise; it feels quite heavy," remarked Estelle.
"Very likely Mamma has placed a pot of jelly under the flowers," said Amy. "My mother says that when we bestow a gift we make it doubly acceptable by giving it in a graceful manner. This old lady has no relatives to look after her, she has a son, but she does not know where he is. Mamma says it is pitiful to hear the poor soul talk of that son, how she prays for him and hopes he will come back to her before she becomes entirely helpless." "I just hope God will punish that son!" exclaimed Bo. "Father Anthony says anyone who is cruel to his parents will have no luck in this world and be everlastingly punished in the next." "Dear brother, don't hope evil for any one, rather let us pray that the heartless son may be inspired to think of his dear old mother and return to her." Just here a bend of the road brought them upon a little cottage of the romantic order, overgrown with woodbine, in which Grandma had a room. The dear old lady greeted the children heartily, thanking them for the flowers. "Take seats, my dears; oh, not there child, that is Velvet Ear's chair," and Bolax sprang aside just in time to save himself from sitting upon a tiny skye-terrier.
"Are you well this morning?" asked Amy. "Oh, very well, dear," answered Grandma.
After a few more pleasant remarks the children bid good-bye, then getting into the cart drove leisurely along the road.
Suddenly there was a thunder-clap, and a dark cloud appeared where the sun had shone a moment before.
"Drive as fast as you can, Brother; I fear we will be drenched!" while she was speaking, the rain poured down. Bo knowing how easily his sister took cold, divested himself of his jacket and put it around her. "Ben Bolt" seemed to take in the situation and got up a speed he had never before shown. When they reached home all were soaked. Estelle laughed about her plight, but Bo hurried his sister into the house, where his mother and aunt soon had her in a warm bath, then to bed with a cup of hot lemonade, hoping thus to ward off the consequences of such a severe drenching.
In a few days Amy began to cough. Dr. Carroll looked serious when asked if the cough would last long.
In ten days the child grew rapidly worse, and Mrs. Allen sent for her husband, who was on one of his Western trips. He came home to find his little daughter so ill, that her life was almost despaired of. Bravely the doctors fought against the dread disease which they feared would end fatally, although they managed to ward off the danger for a time.
The Sisters came up from the Convent to see the dear child and try to console her father and mother.
We will have all our children and sisters pray if it be God's will to spare your beloved one.