IT was a lovely evening in the pleasant month of May. Already the golden sunset was tinting the clouds with a marvelous beauty, and the strange, wonderful light came stealing along over the soft, green lawn, then across the wide carriage-drive, and finally in at the staircase windows of an old-fashioned house in the county of Gloucestershire. Very beautiful was the stream of red and golden sunlight, as it rested at last upon the massive brass rails which formed the balustrade of the wide oaken staircase of the house in which sweet little Mabel was at that time a guest.
Mabel was a tiny child of little more than four years of age. So fair, so delicate was she, that she looked too fragile for earth; yet so sweet and gentle also in all her ways and words, that from the moment she became our guest she also became an object of universal love and attraction. Not a servant in that busy establishment was there who would not have done anything in her power to give little Mabel pleasure.
Sweet little Mabel had come to our town on a visit to a very dear aunt, but the fond relative had been suddenly called away from home., Not liking to leave her little niece solely to the charge of her servants, Mabel had been entrusted to our care. And a very precious charge we found it to be during the short time she remained with us.
Some dear little boys and girls will want to know if little Mabel loved the dear Lord Jesus. I am so glad to be able to tell you she did. Very often she would speak in her simple, childish way of His goodness and love in leaving the bright heavens on high to come down and die on the cross for her sins. Often, too, her little face would beam with pleasure, as one and another told her of some wonderful story of the love of Jesus to poor suffering sinners. But there was one thought that filled Mabel's little mind more frequently than any other, and that was the sure, certain knowledge that Jesus was coming again. Then she knew she should be able to tell Him how much she loved Him for all His goodness to such a little child as herself.
Now I must go back to that part of my story when the beautiful golden light was shining on the brazen balustrade, and lighting up the fine old oaken staircase with a flood of brightness. It was a pretty sight, one that needed to be seen to be realized. Mabel had observed it on the first evening of her arrival, and had often spoken since of the “light on the banners." Her little eyes sparkled with pleasure again that night as I carried her upstairs on our way to my bed-chamber. Merrily she prattled at first of the “light on the banners," and then in a softer, more reverential tone spoke of the good God who had made the wonderful light and told it to come in at the staircase window, that she might see it. Just for a few moments I paused on the first landing, and pointed out to the child some beautiful spring blossoms standing in a vase near the window.
"Do the flowers love the light on the banners too?" she asked in her childish way.
I told her in simple words of God's goodness to the flowers, and how He had made the light as needful to them as to us. But in her eagerness to look at the delicate tints inside one of the leaves, Mabel almost forgot that her pretty wax doll was in her arms. Happily I caught it as it fell, so that it received no damage. With one arm closely twined round the doll, and the other clinging round my neck, Mabel and I mounted the remainder of the staircase and entered my roam.
Thinking of the child's simple faith and confidence in the heavenly Father's care, I thoughtfully attended to her various little wants, and prepared her for repose. With a beating heart I listened to Mabel's simple prayer. Like a child in converse with a father was the short petition that fell from the childish lips. After thanking the Lord for keeping her so safely all day, she concluded in these simple but trustful words—
“Please, Lord Jesus, bring dear auntie back safe, like you done uncle."
I laid the little head on the soft, downy pillow; then, with an earnest kiss on the little upturned face, prepared to depart. A hasty glance round the bed-chamber to see that all was as it should be, and I must say “Goodnight!” All was in perfect order; even the child's doll, comfortably tucked up in a small vacant bed in the corner of the room. An-, other touch to the arrangement of the snowy curtains, and I opened the door to descend. But if I was satisfied, Mabel was not. Her quick eye had detected something that had made her uneasy. Springing out of bed, with an alacrity that for the moment quite astonished me, she reached the bed in which, according to her directions, I had placed her doll.
"What is it, Mabel darling?” I asked, as I stood by the little white-robed child, and marked her eager and yet satisfied expression of countenance.
"You put the sheet too much over Dolly's face," was the ready reply. “It’s all right now; I've put it so she can see Jesus if right comes."
Once more I laid her on the snowy pillow, and mused thoughtfully over her wish for the Lord to come, and her strange childish fancy about her doll. Silently I sat by her side till the little eyes had closed in slumber, and things of earth were all forgotten. It was with a full heart that I joined the family circle, and told of the simple words of that little child, with their precious lesson to my own heart.
And now, dear little boys and girls, do you love Jesus as Mabel did? Do you love to hear the sweet stories of His love to poor, sinful man? Have you ever thought that He came down from the bright heaven to wash away your sins? Do you see His work in the beautiful flowers and golden sunlight that surround you? Perhaps you will think these are a great many questions for little boys and girls to answer. But I am just going to ask one more. When you lie down in your soft, cozy, snug little beds, do you think to yourself, “I should like to see Jesus when He comes; perhaps He may come to-night "?
M. V. B.