Miss Parker smiled on her brightly. “Are you sure of that, my dear girl? Remember we are talking about a history which is different from any other in the world, because Jesus is ‘the same yesterday, to-day and forever.’”
“O, yes’m!” Cora said civilly; “I know it; but then, of course, things are different. His mother is not here on earth for us to take care of; I should love to do it, I know I should,” and Cora’s fair face glowed, and her eyes had a sweet and tender light in them.
Miss Parker looked at her fondly. “My dear child,” she said, “I think you would; but do you forget how He said, ‘Whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother and sister and mother’?”
Cora looked a little bewildered, and Miss Parker explained.
“I think we all forget that according to that verse Jesus has many ‘mothers’ on earth, in the persons of his dear old saints, who are poor, and weak, and tired, and are only waiting to be called home. There are so many things we could do for their comfort, if we only remembered that they were the same to Jesus as his own dear mother.”
The girls looked at one another wonderingly. This was a new way of putting it. Cora did more than look. “What a lovely thought!” she said; “I should never have thought it out for myself, but it must be so, because what would that verse mean if it were not? O, Miss Parker! couldn’t we girls do it? Do you know of any old lady whom we could help a little—make a pretty Christmas for, perhaps? Girls, wouldn’t you all like to do it?”
So that was the beginning. Yes, Miss Parker knew an old lady; had had her in mind all the week; had wondered how she could set to work to interest her dear girls in her. She needed a great deal of help, and Miss Parker had very little of this world’s goods. She knew that some of her girls came from homes where there was plenty. “But I do not like to be always begging,” she told her mother. Then she had asked the Lord Jesus to show her some way of interesting the girls in poor Grandmother Blakslee. And here they were asking for the name of an old lady whom they could help! What a lovely answer it was to her prayer.
“NOW LET US ASK A BLESSING.”
Grandmother Blakslee’s story was a sad one, though only too common. Her two daughters and her one son had died long years before, leaving a little granddaughter, who had grown to girlhood and married a worthless drunkard, who deserted her, and at last she died, leaving to Grandmother Blakslee the care of her poor little baby boy. In many ways life had gone hard with Grandmother Blakslee; and now in her old age, when she was too feeble to work, the thing which she had dreaded most in the world, next to sin, had come to her door. She could no longer pay the rent for her one little bare room, and must send her little boy to the orphan asylum, and go herself to the poorhouse. It seemed a very pitiful thing to Grandmother Blakslee that she should have had to plan to leave the bare little room on Christmas morning, but that happened to be the day when it was convenient for the man who had promised to take her and her old arm-chair. Poor little Johnnie was to go with her for that one day, and the next morning he was to be taken in the market wagon to the asylum. Poor Grandmother Blakslee! her heart was very sad and sore, but she tried to keep her face quiet and peaceful for Johnnie’s sake. She had not been able to make the little fellow understand that he was to be separated from her; the most he realized was that they were to take a ride together and spend the day in a big house, and he was happy. On the little three-cornered table was set a dish with baked potatoes and warm rolls, and the teapot stood near it; a neighbor only a little less poor than themselves had remembered them. Grandmother tried to have only thankfulness in her heart; but could she forget that she had lived in that town more than sixty years, and been a member of the church all that time? Occasionally she could not help feeling it was strange that there could have been no other way but to go to the poorhouse. “It won’t be long now for me,” she told herself, “and I should like to have kept Johnnie while I staid, poor little boy! But it was not to be.” Then she smothered a sigh and said, “Come, Johnnie, let us ask a blessing, then we will have our last breakfast alone together.”