Little Bertie was a sweet little boy, the only child his mother had; his father had gone to dwell with the angels long ago, and his dear mother was obliged to labor very hard for the support of herself and her little boy. Bertie and his dear mamma lived in a little white house, that had a flower garden attached to it, where the roses and pansies and sweet pinks grew and blossomed through all the long, golden days of summer. The little house stood just out of town, not very far from the big stone house where the lady lived who supplied Bertie’s mother with sewing work.
Little Bertie was only seven years old, but it was his delight to dig and plant in the garden, to water the flowers, and to keep the weeds from choking up the blossoming plants and shrubs; and while engaged in this work, he would chirp and whistle to the dear little birds who came to watch him, and to sing him sweet songs, as they swung merrily upon the branches of the one cherry-tree that the garden contained.
One day, as little Bertie was working away and singing a childish song, a tiny shadow fell across his path, and looking up he saw a little girl, about five years old, standing beside him, and gazing wistfully at a bunch of red roses he held in his hand, which he had just gathered for his mother. The little stranger had evidently strayed through the open gate; her pale face was very thin and wan, her large blue eyes appeared as though they were only used to looking on disagreeable scenes; but now they were lighted up with pleasure at the sight of the beautiful flowers! Her clothing was poor and worn, and her whole appearance betokened want and suffering.
Little Bertie’s curiosity, as well as sympathy, was aroused; he plied the child with questions, but, alas, she could not answer, for she was dumb. This she made him understand by signs, also that she had come a long way and was tired; she stretched out her hands toward the blooming flowers, as though they could give her rest.
Crowding her hands full of flowers, Bertie led the little wanderer in to his mother, who soon made her more comfortable, by bathing her heated body in cool water, and by feeding her with a bowl of fresh milk and bread.
That night the little dumb girl slept in a nice, soft bed with Bertie’s mother. The next day Bertie’s mother tried to find out the home of the little girl, and for many days after, but all in vain. The angels had led her to that pretty home, and the angels intended she should stay. Her former home had been one of misery and want; her own mother was an angel in heaven, and her father had neglected and beaten her. Bertie was greatly delighted with his little sister, as he called the stranger; and soon the two children learned to love each other very dearly.
Bertie and his mother were soon able to understand the signs the little girl made, and there was no difficulty in knowing her wants. They called her Daisy; and the two children were to be seen daily among the flowers, which both fondly loved.
Bertie’s mother had to work harder than ever now, as she had another little mouth to feed, and another little body to clothe; but she did not fret, for she loved the little girl, who gave so much pleasure to her Bertie. Sometimes, when the children were tired with work and play, and had become quiet, or at the twilight hour, when the flowers and birds were going to rest, little Daisy would creep to the feet of Bertie’s mamma, and, fixing her gaze upon the far-away blue sky, would put up her little hands with a look as though she heard sweet sounds, and saw beautiful sights. And so she did; for the angels came very close to this little girl, and sometimes, when they brought her flowers from the Summer-land, she would see them and hear the sweet songs they sang.
The winter began to approach; summer faded away, and little Bertie was very ill. The angels wanted him in their beautiful home, and one night, just before the snowy Christmas time, he drew his mamma’s face down to his and kissed it, put his arms around her neck, and whispered: “I am going, mamma; papa says so. I see him; he says Daisy will be your child now; the angels brought her here for you; and he says I can come to you again.” And so he passed away to the pure spirit world, where all is light and joy.
His mamma wept over the cold, white body of her little boy, from which his sweet spirit had forever fled; but little Daisy only smiled as she gazed upon the tiny form, robed in its snowy raiment; for she had seen the spirit of her little playmate as it passed out from the earthly form and was clasped in the arms of its angel father, and she knew that Bertie had gone to live in that beautiful, wonderful land of sunshine and flowers, which she sometimes visited in her dreams.