She saw all the people standing With heads bowed down in the light, And she heard the words: “Our Father, Bless this service here to-night.”
When the good man ceased his speaking And each one had taken seat, Again the notes from the organ Thro’ the stillness sounded sweet.
A little girl came to the altar,— “No older than I am”—she thought; She was dressed in snowy whiteness, In her hands sweet flowers she brought.
She spoke of the Christ—our Saviour, In her pretty childish way; She said: “The Lord is risen And he walks with men to-day.”
“He loves us—He died to save us,” Said the little maid in white— “He went to the Home above us, To Heaven where there is no night.”
And the little girl by the stair-way In her tattered gown of red, Listening, heard the story sweet And treasured the words she said;
And she wondered, as she listened, If the Saviour did truly care For one so small and neglected As she, sitting down by the stair.
And while she looked at the flowers And heard the grand organ play, And sweet voices of the children Now telling of Easter day;
Her little heart grew lighter, She said: “I’m alone no more For Christ, who loves the children, Is my Father now gone before.”
When the Easter Service was ended She wended her way alone Thro’ the streets of the great city To the garret, her only home.