Minnie opened a bright little box, and there inside, on a bed of whitest, softest wool, a little china doll reposed, clothed in a wrapper of pink silk; under her head a little roll of wadding served as a pillow.
"Doesn't she look cosy?" asked Minnie, patting her complacently.
"And what's it for? How can it be for the Lord Jesus?"
"Why, don't you remember how we mended those toys before Christmas, and sent them to the children's ward of the hospital?"
John nodded.
"So that's just what I'm going to do now; here will be two dozen little presents, and it will make two dozen little children happy for a whole day, I shouldn't wonder."
"It is a very good thought," said John.
"And that's why I was sorry I'd been cross over that."
"Yes," answered John thoughtfully; "but I believe, Minnie, if we were more anxious to please Him, we should be far more careful than we are about everything. All that we do is really working for Him, and I do believe—I'm saying it to myself, and not to you, Minnie—that if we watched more, and realized His loving presence more, we should live very differently from what we do."
Minnie slowly shut up her boxes, and when John had finished speaking she said softly, "We must try more than ever."