THE LINE OF GOLDEN LIGHT,
OR THE LITTLE BLIND SISTER[I]
BY ELIZABETH HARRISON
Once upon a time there lived a child whose name was Avilla; she was sweet and loving, and fair to look upon, with everything in the world to make her happy—but she had a little blind sister, and Avilla could not be perfectly happy as long as her sister’s eyes were closed so that she could not see God’s beautiful world, nor enjoy His bright sunshine. Little Avilla kept wondering if there was not something that she could do which would open this blind sister’s eyes.
At last, one day, she heard of an old, old woman, nobody knew how old, who had lived for hundreds of years in a dark cave, not many miles away. This queer, old woman knew a secret enchantment, by means of which the blind could receive their sight. The child Avilla asked her parents’ permission to make a journey to the cave, in order that she might try to persuade the old woman to tell her this secret. “Then,” exclaimed she, joyfully, “my dear sister need sit no longer in darkness.” Her parents gave a somewhat unwilling consent, as they heard many strange and wicked stories about the old woman. At last, however, one fine spring morning, Avilla started on her journey. She had a long distance to walk, but the happy thoughts in her heart made the time pass quickly, and the soft, cool breeze seemed to be whispering a song to her all the way.
When she came to the mouth of the cave, it looked so dark and forbidding that she almost feared to enter it, but the thought of her little blind sister gave her courage, and she walked in. At first she could see nothing, for all the sunshine was shut out by the frowning rocks that guarded the entrance. Soon, however, she discerned the old woman sitting on a stone chair, spinning a pile of flax into a fine, fine thread. She seemed bent nearly double with age, and her face wore a look of worry and care, which made her appear older.
The child Avilla came close to her side, and thought, she is so aged that she must be hard of hearing. The old woman did not turn her head, nor stop her spinning. Avilla waited a moment, and then took fresh courage, and said, “I have come to ask you if you will tell me how I can cure my blind sister?” The strange creature turned and stared at her as if she were very much surprised; she then spoke in a deep, hollow voice, so hollow that it sounded as if she had not spoken for a very long time. “Oh,” said she with a sneer, “I can tell you well enough, but you’ll not do it. People who can see, trouble themselves very little about those who are blind!” This last was said with a sigh, and then she scowled at Avilla until the child’s heart began to beat very fast. But the thought of her little blind sister made her brave again, and she cried out, “Oh please tell me. I will do anything to help my dear sister!” The old woman looked long and earnestly at her this time. She then stooped down and searched in the heap of the fine-spun thread which lay at her side until she found the end of it. This she held out to the child, saying, “Take this and carry it all around the world, and when you have done that, come to me and I will show you how your blind sister may be cured.” Little Avilla thanked her and eagerly seized the tiny thread, and wrapping it carefully around her hand that she might not lose it, turned and hastened out of the close, damp cave.
“avilla ran forward and cried:
‘now give sight to my sister’”
She had not traveled far before she looked back to be sure the thread had not broken, it was so thin. Imagine her surprise to see that instead of its being a gray thread of spun flax, it was a thread of golden light, that glittered and shone in the sunlight, as if it were made of the most precious stuff on earth. She felt sure now that it must be a magic thread, and that it somehow would help her to cure her blind sister. So she hastened on, glad and happy.
Soon, however, she approached a dark, dense forest. No ray of sunlight seemed ever to have fallen on the trunks of its trees. In the distance she thought she could hear the growl of bears and the roar of lions. Her heart almost stopped beating. “Oh, I can never go through that gloomy forest,” said she to herself, and her eyes filled with tears. She turned to retrace her steps, when the soft breeze which still accompanied her whispered: “Look at the thread you have been carrying! Look at the golden thread!” She looked back, and the bright, tiny line of light seemed to be actually smiling at her, as it stretched across the soft greensward, far into the distance, and, strange to say, each tiny blade of grass which it had touched, had blossomed into a flower. So, as the little girl looked back, she saw a flowery path with a glittering line of golden light running through it. “How beautiful!” she exclaimed. “I did not notice the flowers as I came along, but the enchanted thread will make the next traveler see them.”