Newspaper Page Text
24 TH
The Family
A BUSY BOY.
1 know a merry lad whose sisters are
too small
'They can not walk a single step, but lie
right down and crawl.
And so this little laddie is as busy as can
be.
Because he is so big and strong he has
to walk for three!
He picks the babies' rattles up and puts
away their toys;
He keeps them happy and amused, without
too big a noise;
Because the twins are very small and he
is big, so he
Has learned that it is a brother's part to
plan the fun for three!
This little laddie's face is always very
bright and gay;
We think his cheeks grow dinipler and
plumper every day;
For laughter i3 a splendid thing to keep
folks bright, you see.
And every time he hears a joke he has a
laugh for three!
?Hannah G. Fernald, in Caradian Presbyterian.
OUR LORD'S CANDLES.
One Friday. Anita, a little Spanish
girl, was wandering over the mountains.
She knew every canyon and trail. Her
heart was made glad by the flower blossoms
that met her bright eyes. The soapweed.
with its blue blossoms, that was
better than any soap for hard water; the
mescal, with its blooms of red and yellow
and nurnle. the heart of whieh was
so good roasted; the bear grass, the Mariposa
lily, that is not a lily at all; the
"yerba buena," or good herb, and many
others.
High up the sides of the rugged mountains
blazed the yuccas, "Our Lord's candles,"
the Spanish people called them;
and in the hot sunshine their waxen blossoms
did seem to blaze like a white
light. All at once, as Anita looked at
them, a thought came to her. On the
following Sabbath, they were to be taken
into the little church where they' had
learned about the Christ who could be a
friend to them. How beautiful it would
be to gather some of these splendid
blooms for the church, for, in the sunny
land of California, no Sabbath passed
that there were no flowers to lend it
their beauty.
Running down the trail like a kitten,
Anita darted away through the brushes
to find her father, and ask him about it,
for it trtnlr a clrnmr o?.rr? 1 1?lm
? ??. .. ?v??e ?iiu auu a guuu nunc
to cut off those tough and pithy stems.
"You know," she said to them in their
soft, smooth language, "we have always
called them 'Our Lord's Candles,' and
they will light up the church of God."
It was a beautiful thought to him, and
already he saw that the new church was
different in many ways from the old one.
Then, had not Anita learned many things
of the English-speaking folks? She should
have her way, the mother said.
The next day being Saturday, they
could come again and cut the yuccas, so
that they would be fresh, and Anita spent
the rest of the afternoon clambering over
y
E PRESBYTERIAN OF THE SOU
the mountain sides and seeking out the
perfect ones.
The yucca is one of the most wonderful
plants of California. It stores up so
much plant fotd that it will sometimes
grow twelve feet in height in a few days,
and there are olten two thousand of the
white blossoms, and sometimes as many
as six thousand on a single stalk. Seen
on the mountains or in the desert, the
yucca looks front a distance like a brilliant
white flame, and the Spanish people
have well named it "Our lx>rd"s Candles."
It was a tired group that cante down
the old Wilson trail at sunset the next
day. Four of the largest stalks, each one
more than twice as tall as himself, the
father carried on his shoulder. Anita and
hci mother carried three more nearly as
large, the mother bearing the heavier
stalks, the girl the lighter one.
With the help of the pastor, they were
placed in water in front of the pulpit,
and left in the cool church for the night,
while the tired but happy little Spanish
family went back to their tent for supper
and rest.
Anita was only a little Spanish girl,
rr.l though she understood the word3 of
the pastor, there was much of the sermon
that was not very plain to her. One
part of it, however, she did understand.
The pastor spoke of the beautiful flowers
that filled the whole room with the sweet,
heavy fragrance.
"Our Lord's Candles," he said; "that is
what we ought all to be. Even the little
children can be like little candles burning
in the night."
Then Anita knew, for she had learned
tho hvmn in Qohho<
?j uui i^ui/uuvii-o\.uva/1 uu1 jug iiiuau
last few Sundays, and could sing it in u
sweet, smooth voice. She liked especially
the second verse:
"Jesus bids us shine first of all for
him,
Well he sees and knows, it if our light
is dim:
He looks down from Heaven, sees us
shine.
You in your small corner, and I in mine.''
Yes. she could understand this. Then
the old grandmother had always called
her "Little Sunshine" in the daytime,
and when the sun went down and
the darkness came, she called her "My
Little Candle," because the child always
showed her where she had laid her work
or needle, and helped her to bed.' So
Anita went away from the church with a
very strong feeling that she must be a
candle to shine for Jesus, whom she had
just learned to love as her Savior.
Monday found them all busy with the
peach harvest, the father picking and
hauling, and the mother and girl cutting
ar.d stoning for drying; for the fruit
musi De naived, the stone taken out, and
the slices spread, face up, on trays to dry
in the snn. So two or three days cf work
passed, and she felt that no one had seen
her shine. But the manager had noticed
that she d'd her work carefully, and was
not idle when she thought no one was
watching, as some of the girls were. The
other girls saw too, and by and by they
began to do their work better because of
her faithfulness.
Thursday noon, they were washing the
sticky Juice from their hands at the hydrant
in the yard, in order to eat their
lunch, when ore of the girls sa'd to her.
TH. May 5, 1303.
"Anita, why do you work when no one
is watching you?"
"1 am trying to be God's little candle
in my small corner," she said.
After that, they all called her "The
Little Candle." People who came to the
driery, as well as the men who hauled
the peaches from the orchard, heard the
cdd name and stopped to ask what it
meant, and then Anita was always asked
to sing the little Sabbath school song, for
her voice, like the voices of most Spanish
children, was very full and smooth, and
she sang like a bird. Each time they
went away wondering if they, too. were
helping to make the world brighter for
Christ. So, before the summer was over,
Anita's light was shining into many corners.
even as the wonderful yucca shone
on the rugged slopes of the Sierra Madre
Mountains.?Boys and Girls.
GOD'S LITTLE MESSENGER.
Dorothy sat curled un in the big armchair,
thinking. She was thinking of
father, who had looked s> sad and lonely
and troubled lately.
Since mother died, there was no cnc
to make the wrinkles go and the smiles
come as she had. She was only a girl,
and could not comfort him. She could
pnt iolb i ~ 1
>ain iu nun as moiner nau.
Presently she rose, went into the garden
and gathered the lovliest rosebud
she could find?a large tea rose that her
mother had loved?and, putting the long,
s'ender stem into a delicate \ase, placed
it on father's dressing table.
Mother used to say that flowers were
little comforting, loving messages from
God.
Father was late coming to supper, and
very thoughtful. Had he noticed the
tiower?
After the meal was over, he followed
her to the sitting room, instead of going
to his study as usual, and. putting his
arm around her, said, lovingly, "That
was a very sweet message you had for
me tonight, dear."
"It wasn't my message, father, it was
God's."
"You were -God's messenger, then.
Would you like to know what the message
was?"
"Yes, father."
He took a seat on the sofa, and drew
her down beside him. "It told me I was
a very foolish creature to be brooding
over my troubles and loneliness when
there was a vnnmr '???> ' 1 " "'
? 11 con ii^art run or
love and sympathy right at my side."
"Hut, father, I am only a girl. I can't
really do anything."
"My dear, you have done a great deal
already. Just as the petals of the rose
will fall, now it has delivered its message,
so the troubles and loneliness began
to disappear, when I realized what
the message meant. It will be a great
comfort to me to feel that there will be
a dear face to welcome me; that will
say, without words, 'Father, I love you,
and would do more if I could.' And
there will be more, never fear. Think
how lone T h?vo " " '
? ~ Usui uiiuu iu 11 an, now
much I have missed already."
- "O. father." said Dorothy, with tears
in her eyes, "I am so happy!"
"And so. am I, dear?happier than 1
have been for a long, long time. I wish
there were more such thoughtful little
messengers."?Southern Churchman.