"Then He smiled!—and He lifted the baby up and held it close, so He warmed it all through. And then He put it into its mother's arms and said, 'Well, I must be going.'
"And this is what I'm going to tell you, Maizie, that you were that little baby, and Jesus smiled at you to wake you up."
Maizie did not speak. Her eyes were shining, her lips trembling. Her small soul was touched to its depths. After a long time in a whisper she spoke: "Oh, was I really the baby that made Jesus smile? I'm happy, Suzanna, but—it hurts me, too—"
Suzanna put her arms about her sister. The emotions she had aroused in that little sister warmed her, thrilled her through and through. They sat on in silence. Soon a question began to puzzle Maizie. She gave it voice. "I didn't know I'd been a baby more than once, Suzanna."
"You're a baby every hundred years," said Suzanna promptly.
"Oh, I see." Then: "I do love Him now, Suzanna. I'll always love Him 'cause once He woke me up. Suzanna, do you think the rose will come to you and tell you another story?"
Suzanna believed the rose might.