“In church, of course,” said the child. “The minister gives us all flowers. You shall have some of mine,” and she took some sprays of lily of the valley and a red rose and laid them in the old man’s withered hand. “Does that make you glad?” she asked, anxiously. “The minister says everybody must be glad to-day.”
“Why must everybody be glad, my little angel?” asked the old man, sadly.
“Because Christ the Lord is risen,” said the child. “Didn’t you know that? Don’t you know that this is Easter Day?”
The old man smiled, and raised the flowers to his lips and kissed them. “I have been ill, my little angel,” he said, “but you have made me almost well again, and I will be glad! Christ the Lord is risen indeed.”
“Hallelujah!” cried the child, eagerly.
“Hallelujah!” echoed the old man, reverently.
“Hallelujah!” sang the bluebird in the leafless tree.
“Hallelujah!” said the whole wide world.