East Saginaw courier. (East Saginaw, Mich.) 1859-18??, 1859-12-29
A CHRISTMAS STORY.
ANGEL CHILDREN.
BY ANNA CORA RITCHIE.

of being put to bed, children, half the
world over, have simultaneously raised
their voices, and consecrated this hour to
story listening.
At twilight, not many evenings ago
five sisters were gathered around the pa
rental hearth. "Sisser, tell me story
said little Virginia, climbing on my knee
and circling my wasit with her arms un.
til the dimpled hands met, then nesting
her curly head upon my shoulders, Tel
me pretty tory"
There is no refusing our pretty Jenny.
"What must the story be about Jen-
n.y."
Oh, about fairies and dood children"
"Shall | tell you about three little sis
ters whom | knew - who are all angels
now-and shall | tell you of a heavenly
dream | once had about them?"
"Yes-about angels = will do as well
as the fairies"
Well then listen. One Christmas
morning was sitting in church amongst
number Of cherished friends - the
church was gaily decorated with ever
greens-the Star of Bethlehem shone on
the eastern wall - the Sunday school
children had sung an exquisite hymn,
written for the occasion = our beloved
pastor, in his holiest mood, had spoken
words of promise and encouragement,
had breathed upon us "soft rebukes in
blessings ended" around him were hope
fully happy feres, but amongst the cheer
full crowd l missed one dear familiar
countenance. A father sat surrounded
by his children, but their mother was
absent. She was at home watching over
little daughter who was very i'll.
The family lived short distance from
the city, and after service, | drove out to
see the sick child. Among my Christ
mas presents was basket made of moss,
and filled with every description of green
house fowers-camelias heliotrope, or
ange blossoms, jassamines, roses, &C.
The handle, too, was woven Of flowers,
embedded in moss. | thought the re-
freshing sight of the flowers might do
little Clara good, so l stopped on the
way for this lovely floral gift. At the
door of Clara's home was greeted by a
host of little ones, and they first took me
into the parlor, where stood Christmas
tree, so tall that it nearly reached from
the floor to the ceiling. The spreading
branches were loaded with gifts, and
waxen lights were scattered about among
the smaller boughs.
The children delightedly-' exhibited
their abundant Christmas presents, and
then led me up stairs to their mothers
room. AS they entered there, every one
trod softly, and the gay voices were
hushed to whispers. On small couch,
at the foot of her mothers bed lay little
Clara "a patient, gentle child, about
seven or eight years old. She was lying
so motionless that you might have
thought her some beautiful statue; her
thin, tiny hands were as white as the
sheets on which they were extended
her countenance had an alabaster hue, and
her large, dark ewes were looking fixedly
upwards to the .,iling, as though they
could see more than we saw.
The mother sat near the bed, her face
blanched with apprehension, and around
her eyes were red circles that showed she
had been weeping, perhaps the whole of
that Christmas night. Little Clara did
not notice us when we entered, nor did
she answer when spoke to her; but
when l brought the messy basket to the
bedside, she feebly lifted up her shadowy
hand and laid it on the hower-woven
handle, and looked in my face and smiled
one angelic smile of thanks.
The next morning the Christmas tree
still stood in the parlor, but in the cham
Der above lay little coffin; within repos-
ed the earthly form Of lovely child, be-
strewed with flowers but the angels
had borne away little Clara to her eter-
nal home.
Lizzy was the name Of one Of Clara's
younger sisters. She was called after a
most beloved friend of her parents
Lily was the pet name by which she
always went, Lily was her fathers
especial darling = the sunlight Of his
home and his heart The moment he
entered the house she flew into his arms;
wherever he went she was at his side,
her baby hand seldom out of his; if he
were sad, she comprehcnded it in mo.
ment, and could clear away his gloom
with her merry prattle, her arch infan-
tile graces; if he were gay, she was full
of widest sport. When he was out of the
house, Lily seemed different being, all
was seldom well with her until he return
ed; at night she slept in his arms, and in
the morning though the world called him
a grave, wise man, they frolicked togcth-
er like children. IL such a thing could
be, Lily was almost too dear to her faith
er, and he to her. Not long after Clara
was summoned away, little Lily fell sick
Father and mother watched her night
AMI day with breaking hearts; but her
Heavenly father had called her; he sent
his messenger to gather this fair flower;
also, and as she lay on the bosom of her
earthly father, the beautiful blossm was
plucked.
The youngest child of all, the baby,
the sweetest, brightest little creature was
called Anna. She, too, was called after
a dear friend. Before Christmas came
again, little Anna sickened as did her
sisters. How her mother clasped her to
her yearning breast, and prayed the Lord
to spare this one, her baby, her latest
born, whose joyous presence bad enabled