"Shall I tell you what it means?" I asked.
He looked at me doubtfully.
"Are you going to scold me?" he asked, moving restlessly on my knee; "'cause I'm going to be a good boy now."
"No, my dear, I'm not going to scold you," I said reassuringly. "I only want to tell you what I mean by my story."
"Will it take long?" he asked; "'cause I'm hungry, and want my tea."
"No, it won't take long," I answered persuasively. "I will tell it to you quickly. This is what it means. You know, Chris, God wants us all to go to heaven and live with Him by and by. In His great love He has shown us all the way; it is the way that the blesséd Jesus went; a way that sometimes takes us over hard and difficult places, but that always goes up—never down. It is a way that leads us higher and higher, right away to the happy land you were singing of last Sunday. But there is one thing God has told us to do if we ever hope to reach that happy land—we must love everyone. Just as the man who in my story reached the beautiful land at last, just as he gave freely of the water in his flask, so must we give freely of the love God has put into our hearts. He has put it there, not that we should spend it on ourselves, but that we should spend it on others. So long as we do that, so long will our hearts remain pure and good as God wants them to be. And the more we love everyone, the more we shall know of God, and the nearer we shall be to heaven; for you see, dear, to know God is Heaven, and God is Love."
I paused, and Chris looked contemplative.
"I'm going to be like the good man, who gave away the water out of his flask," he said, with the air of one taking a great resolution. "I'm going to love everyone, and Briggs too."
"I like to hear you say that," I said, stroking his head, with the tumbled, golden curls. "Now, I think you had better go to your tea. Briggs will be waiting for you."
He jumped off my knee and went as far as the door, then came back to my side.