“Put out the light, and leave the window open, papa,” she pleaded; “so we can look up at dear mamma’s home. See how bright the stars are. Bessie says the water-lilies are like the stars come down here, so we can think the stars are heaven’s lilies; but they do not fade like the lilies; do they, papa?” She rambled on half sleepily, without waiting for an answer. “And Jesus never fades, nor the angels He takes up to His heaven. Papa, I’ll try to be like a little water-lily, and then when Jesus has done wif me on earf, He will gafer me up to His home where mamma is.”
So she talked on about mamma and Jesus and heaven till sleep came, and she forgot alike the joys and sorrows of her young life.
But her father sat there, long after she fell asleep, and thought with more pleasure than any thing had given him since his wife’s death, of the work which “all fee togefer” might do for Jesus. And as he remembered the many mercies which God had still left to him, especially the blessing of this loving little child, he took shame to himself that he had allowed his own great grief to make him forget the wants and troubles of others; and he resolved that on each Christmas and birthday, from this time forth, Belle’s gift from her “mamma in heaven,” should be the means of doing good to some one who needed it.
He was as good as his word respecting the water-lily boy; and the very next day went to work to find if Johnny Howe and his parents were worthy of the help his little daughter wished to offer them.
All was satisfactory. Johnny’s parents proved to be industrious, deserving people, with whom the world had gone rather hardly for the last year or two. Johnny himself, a bright boy, eager to learn, and who made the most of all his opportunities. His father and mother thankfully accepted the offer Mr. Powers made to provide for his education as long as they should need such help; and dear little Belle was made happy in this “birfday present.”
Belle’s were not the only young eyes which gazed upward at the starry sky that night with sweet thoughts of the heaven beyond.
Maggie and Bessie had gone out with Colonel Rush to see Mr. Powers and Belle drive away; and the evening was so soft, and warm and lovely, that after they had gone the Colonel sat down upon the steps of the piazza to enjoy it, with one of his pets on either side of him.
It was very quiet: only two sounds broke the stillness; the ceaseless song of the sea,—very low and gentle it was to-night,—and mingling with it came the sweet tones of Mrs. Rush’s voice, as she sang her baby to sleep in one of the upper rooms. They all sat listening to the two hymns; so different, yet with no discord between them; the music of the one blending so perfectly with the music of the other.
For a moment the sweet singer above paused; then, unconscious of the listening ears below, began,—
“I was a wandering sheep.”