The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1892-01-14
STORY OF TWO
BIRTHDAYS.


gazing tenderly, very sweet, Indeed. The
cheek Is whittier than the pillow beneath It,
the hair waves prettily back from the wide
forehead. the dark eyes are full to overflow
ing of a happiness as beau-fylug as 1t Is
complete.
And you are quite sure he looks Ike
meP" she is saying eagerly " Draw the
cradle closer, Fred; closer vet, aud lock
attentiveIy. Now tell NE just what you
think"
Al thlnk-oh, l can't tell you halt I think,
dear" His voice is q trjhe unsteady, and
the hand her fingers clasp lightly IS shaking
uUTvOUSiy.
"Alwavs to be with us" the low voice
goes on; ours TO watch and tend and hold
within our hearts. Our boy-my bCy-ah!
God is very kind. And the beautiful seri-
Gus eyes Will soon learn TO read our faces
and our hearts, the baby fingers Will hold
Us tightly, and the tender lips we KISS VIII
teach wonderful things, Tor heaven own
wisdom is in a ChlQ'S Imperfect SOeecN, ana
the little hauds-deaT little hands. teeI
like weeping for very Joy when l think OF
them"
He lifts one baby fist and kisses il softly.
81 viii teach him all the fair and good
things Of life and guard him from all evil
Think of the little white soul, Fred. Is
II not terrible to think of the world touching
it?" The smile fades from her lips, and
for a moment her eyes meet the soTrUWIul
ones Of the u adOnua.
but our boy viii grow up good, and pure,
and true" she goes on earnestly. He viii
be clever too, want him to be, don't
yOu?"
Indeed I do"
HE will be a student, man whom the
peOpIe will reverence, a writer Of books, OF,
it may be, a great minister, aud the whole
world Will be glad because he was born TO
Us this Christmas time l am going TO be
so economical now that I have his future TO
look forward TO; 1 am going to be so care
full"
"Of yourself. hope" He laughs Then
she comes back 10 the beginning Of thecou-
yeTsat0n.
"And to think be should look just like
me. They say be has even the little ridge
in his nose that have, ana the same anne curve
10 his eyebrows" She laughs softly, aud
draws herhusband's face down close to hers.
II am rather pretty, tredF
Rather, yes"
Bat really wished him to have red hair
dear"
Never mind. The world at large hasn't
your prediction for red hair l think if
you realized all that my fiery locks have
meant to me You would be relieved that
baby's hair is brown"
her answer is to press her lips to the close
cropped mead so near
1--WE must hunt a name for him the next
thing" says this young father, in quite
business tone. I'VE might call him Cyrus,
after his rich old bachelor uncle He"
"No, no, she protests: Uncle Cyrus is
nota good man, Fred. wonder If you viii
laugh when / tell YOU what l wish to call
this child Of ours. II sOundS very much like
bit Of 'Bunyau's Pilgrims Progress, and
! dare say few viii understand. But lie
came TO US this Chris,mastde-the bells
we're ringing tie very hour Of his
birth. He seems set apart in my heart as
something holy, and l WIsh-DOw, don't
even smile my DARING wish to call him
Christian.
He does not dream Of smiling. "If you
love the name, 1 love it with YOU" he
whispers.
They say the falrest child born Of love
may grow MP into an evil man or woman
hood now" Her voice is deep and thrilling
in its earnestuess. "Wheu we lose priced
thing. the gift of one we loved, we search
and watch Tor It again, ana II we find it,
though it be s0ied and battered almost be-
yOnd recognition, we prize Il IN our heart Of
hearts and hold il even dedTeT than it was
beIOTe-dedTeT, not tdiTeT, mind. And I've
been thinking, dear, tl8t this babe Is
heavens Christmas gift 20 you and me. If
il il happens in the coming years that
he is lost In any maze OF sin, IN any miTe
Of wIongdoing, you-you viii remember,
dear"
Her hand is still in his. and the firm clasp
and the solemn eaTuestness OF his i WIlP'
suggests a covenant,
Whence comes it, this wonderful food Of
tenderness surging through his heart, bring
ing the unNOuted moisture 10 his eyes?
HIS son and hers BE stOOps 10 lay his
first kiss On the soft pink face, and as he
does a tear slips from his cheek and
spashes on the little head A great warm
sunbeam, the first OF the new day, cTeeps
noiselessly in aud lays its radiant face
above the sleepers. An, little one, a holy
baptism is thiae-a fathers tear, Gods yell
low sunlight!
Was eveE ANYTHING quite SO soft, and
warm, and white?
And to think that only yesterday the
great elms stood naked and ashamed before
their old-time enemy, the wind, and their
oid-time mistress, the sun. How the wind
hOuted them, to be suTel No tyrant in the
old fierce DAYS Of warfare ever took such
vast delight IN the lgnOmny OF fallen foe
stripped and set up as mark for public
scOTn, as did that biting, bOisterOus wind Of
yesterday! And the sun, forgetting former
RTac!ousness, yelled It's warmth and held
RlOOf
But nature seldom neglects her children
Tor any length OF time She came last night
with the shadows, and, after listening to the
sobbinR and grIeying, shook from its folds
her sOftCsL thlckest ermine robe, and
spread 1t tendeTly over each naked, throb-
bing breast, and above each tossing, restless
arm.
1t is so still to-day. Upon the snow-clad
highway leading TO the village no traveller
goes as yet But one has tTaversed it since
the day broke, for all the way from the soli-
taTy station to the gray house on the hill
There Is the footprints OF one who came
iron a far country"
Such Irregular faltering steps they must
have been, judging from the ZigZag path
outlined In tie snow.
ID In that room facing the east a woman
is kn6elIng beside the bed, s0bbing out dis
tOinted sentences Of endearment, clinging
passlonately to wasted hand, deYouring
with her gaze the face upon the pillow.
Such wreck! lie is not more than %.
THIS man, worn cut, weary unto death. HIS
hair waves up from the wide forehead his
dark eyes, hollow and bOOdshOt are still
very ike the tender ones Of the wOmsn be-
side him, and when he speaks we notice
that bis voice Is soft and plaintive as hers
My birthday, Is It uOt?' he says, brOk-
enly. Il remember you used to call me
Gods Christmas gift Oh, mother! mother"
The wasted fingers cannot press back the
Hood 81 hot and bitter tears. Her aims are
about him now, her face is pressed to his.
MY boy. you are his gift to me today"
How exultant her touel Il remainder as
though 1t were but yesterday, my pride and
JOY and thankfulness, when l held YOU first
close 10 my heart and knew you mine-my
own. But to-day far transcends that other
day, and II my tears fall with yours, why
they arc but tears OF happiness"
DHI, NY 1dtheEE how can-' A knock
comes on the closed door, a voice calls,
MARY, may come IMP"
She draws the curtains before the bed and
opens the door for her husband. He is
rather stern, this gray-eycd man of a.. but
his face softens as he notes her agitation.
$ Is 1t not beautiful day?" he remarks.
IL Is three years now since either have said
the simple words, A merry Christmas"
1t is a beautiful day, a glad day." she
returns softly day CT rejoicing. Twenty
years ago cur gift from heaven was a white
sOuled babe, was it nOt?'
he bows with aYerted face,
DO you remember that morning? |
know won do We nlanmna Liz 1t. 80