Joseph and Susie thanked God for having brought their father home safely. Then they went to sleep under their warm cover. But for poor Greta, the night seemed very long. If overcome for a moment by a restless sleep she saw in her dream a body lying on the shore covered with sea foam, and she would awaken with a scream. Next morning her pillow was wet with tears.
Old Jacob had not yet returned. At an early hour Joseph and his sister went to the shore to see how things looked. It was a sad picture. Large quantities of sea-weed, covered with black slime lay around in confusion, with which were mixed parts of wrecked vessels washed ashore. The fishers’ boats had been pulled as far up the shore as possible. Out on the ocean no sail could be seen anywhere. The saddest among all the sad sights was the appearance of the little girl who sat on a board near the sea crying as if heart-broken.
The two children felt real sympathy for their little friend. As well as they could, they tried to comfort her, but she would not be comforted. Toward noon, the sad news was all over the village that old Jacob and his nephew’s bodies had been washed ashore; his nephew having accompanied him on the trip.
Poor Greta! What was to become of her? The fishermen were nearly all poor and most of them had large families. Who would have pity on the poor little one?
“She’ll have to go to the poor house,” said one woman.
“That’s the best thing. She will be well treated there,” suggested another.
The last speaker was a rather well-to-do lady, who had no children, and would have been in a better position to take the little girl in than any other person in the village.
Greta was very sad. Occasionally, when Joseph and Susie played with her, she became more cheerful, but would suddenly run away with a loud lament: “O, dear grandfather!” and withdraw into some secluded place.
The following Saturday, after dinner Joseph and his sister were sitting at home. Susie rocked her youngest sister to sleep, while Joseph was trying to carve a boat out of a block of wood.
“I wish Greta wouldn’t have to go to the poorhouse”, Joseph said suddenly. “So do I”, came the answer. “I wonder why father and mother don’t take her into our home.”
“Do you wonder? Just think how many we are, and everything so costly.”
“That is true, Joseph,” thoughtfully she looked into the blazing fire, and seemed to listen to the humming of the tea-kettle. All at once her face brightened, and she exclaimed happily, “Joseph, couldn’t we earn something so Greta wouldn’t need to go to the poor house?”
“Us two, Susie? I don’t understand you. How could two children, such as we are, be able to earn anything?”
Susie knew of no answer to that, but did not give up the thought on that account.
On Sunday both air and sea were still.
As the bell sounded from the village church, many a fisherman with his wife, wended their way to thank God for His preservation through danger during the past week, and to plead for those that go out to sea. Jacob Brand walked along with his children, Joseph and Susie, while mother stayed at home with the smaller ones. Susie could not help constantly thinking of the poor motherless and fatherless Greta. As soon as meeting was over, she took hold of her father’s arm and begged, “Dear Father, please let Greta come to our house.”
“Gladly would I do that, my child, if only I knew how I might care for her. But think, there are so many mouths to fill, and no one but myself to earn. Mother has more work now than she can do.”
Susie uttered a sigh. After a while she said, “Father, shall we not go to the grave of our little Christine?” Father nodded. The little grave looked newly made. Silently the fisherman and his child stood before the low mound and looked at the flowers planted on it.
“Father!” Susie began once more, “might not the Lord have taken her away, so that you could give Greta her place?”
She stopped suddenly, surprised at her own words. The fisherman passed his hand across his eyes, kissed his child on the forehead, and as they turned homeward, he said: “We will see Susie, we will see”.
At home, dinner was on the table. It consisted of potatoes and a pitcher of water. They never had anything besides, nor wished for anything different, indeed, they were glad and thankful, if there were enough potatoes for all. As Susie received her portion, she looked at her father and said: “Father! I might get along, with half as many.”
Then the fisherman told his wife their little daughter’s wish, and her mother’s heart was touched. And, although she, the faithful manager of the household, knew better than any, the difficulties which the reception of the strange girl must necessarily bring, she said, next morning, to Susie: “Now, my child, we will try it for a couple of weeks, but you will need to see to earning something yourself.”
This was happy news for our little friend. As quickly as she could, she went to Greta, calling joyfully: “Just think Greta, you don’t need to go to the poor house! Pack up your things quickly and come with us; you are to sleep with me and be my little sister. What do you say to that?”
It was no small disappointment to our poor Susie, to notice that Greta showed not the least bit of pleasure over this great news. Nor did she express even a word of thanks, but followed her with a dissatisfied expression on her face. The child had been spoiled by her grandfather and was untrained.
That morning it was again very stormy, and the fisherman had hardly caught anything. On such days there were very small meals at Jacob Brand’s. Susie knew well how small the store of potatoes was that day, but she brought her new guest home with a glad heart. Greta brought a good appetite with her. That the meal tasted good was easy to see, as she seemed in her eagerness not to notice how Susie pushed half of her own potatoes over on to her plate.
After the meal, the children went to the shore together.
Soon a conversation was started between Joseph and Susie as to the best way to earn something.
“How would it be for me to go along the cliffs in search of shrimps?” suggested Joseph.
“Me, too,” cried little Edward.
“No”, decided, Susie: “you are still too- small, and you stay with me.” She would rather have gone with Joseph herself, but felt it was her place to stay with the little brothers and sisters.
Only an act of kindness
That you, little child, may show,
While seeking to please the Saviour,
And more like Himself to grow.
Only a glimpse of sunshine
That you, little child, may shed,
To brighten a path of sorrow
Where others may fear to tread.
Only some self-denial,
Attended, perhaps, with pain,
But all that is loss at present
Will someday be richest gain.
ML 08/18/1912