Smyrna times., 1893-12-20
THE CHRISTMAS ROSE.

ing all all day, and as the night ap-
preached, large fakes were still being
driven hither and thther by the wind.
which hOwled and roared in the chin
neys, shook the carefull-closed win.
dOws, and died away in the distance
like the last despairing wall of lost
soul.
In one of the most miserable houses
of Wretched street, in the worst QUAR-
ter of the town, woman by the dim
light of fiickering candle watched be-
side the sick-bed of her last remaining
child. She was weeping bitterly, but
strove to stltie her sObs for fear of dis
turbing the titful slumbers of the suf-
ferer. AS the furious tempest shook
the dilapidated tenement, she trembled
as II she already felt the dread pres
ence of the Angel of Death.
No Christmas fagOt blazed on the
miserable hearth, the happy voices of
laughing children and kind friends had
for her long been stilled, and the cold.
sorrow and poverty which reigned
within seemed but a counterpart of the
desOlatioD without. Behind the low.
cred curtains of the bed could he heard
from time to time the short cough and
labored breathing of the child, who, at
last, suddenly awaking, raised herself
on her elbow, and looked across the
room, where, in vision, she again be-
held the Christmas trees of her earlier
years, with bOn-bons, toys and golden
stars, cleaning amid the darkness of
that sOmbre room. She was a Young
girl of II or ii years of age, and the
sweet, pale face, although in the last
stages of emaciation. still retained
traces of delicate youthful beauty.
With her dying voice she still con-
tinued to talk of the fete-days of long
ago, when she was a rosy, healthy lit
tie child, and her brothers and sisters
Eric, John, Anton, Hilda and Bertha.
crOwed around her with their pretty
Christmas offerings; when her father
danced her on his knee, and the mother
sang sweet lullabys by her cradle.
Those days seemed far away. Eric
and her father had perished in ship
wreck; then, one by one, the others
had followed, till death had left behind
only the grim sisters, sickness and
misery, as the sole companions of the
widow and her child.
The vived remembrance of past hap
piness had brought strange light into
Greta's eyes, and soon these childish
"reminiscences gave place to hope. She
spoke of the spring which would bring
back the birds and flowers, and in Civ
ing life to all else would surely not en-.
tirely forget herself.
You know, mother, the Doctor said
that when the roses came, my suffer.
ings would be over. Will the roses
soon be in bloom ?"
81 have seen some already" replied
the mother; "the Governors wife and
daughter had them in their hair when
| saw them get into the carriage. but
those roses, l think, only grow in the
lighthouses of the rich"
There was silence, broken only bv
Greta's short cough. All at once, car
ried away by one solitary fixed idea,
such as so often baunts the brain of the
sick, she began to talk about roses, to
pine sOrrOwfully for their possession.
and by alternate beseeching, coaxing
and commanding, she at last induced
her mother to go out in search of some
for her.
The poor woman left the bedside
possessed with the one desire to pacify
her child, and taversed the streets with
weary steps, debating in her mind what
excuse she could make on her return
for not having procured that which she
felt was entirely beyond her reach.
With bowed head and sOrrOwful heart
she kept repeating to herself the words
of the physician, so full of hope for
Greta AT the coming of the first
roses she would suffer no more;" and
well as she guessed the mOurnful mean
ing of the prophecy, she could not help
being inspired for an instant by that
spirit of hope which buoyed up her
child. Quickening her steps, she took
the road as if by sudden inspiration
toward the Governors house, hesitated
as she reached the brilliantly lighted
mansion, but at last, taking courage.
knocked timidly at the door, which
was Immediately opened by man-ser
want
What do you want, my good wo
man?"
ITO speak to Madame Paterson"
Il can not disturb Madame at such
an hour of the night"
20 Iimplore you, let me see her ~
The servant repulsed the poor mo-
ther, and was about to shut the door in
her face when Madame Paterson and
her daughter, with roses in their hair
and on their bosOms, crossed the hall,
paused to question the servant. and
then approached the widow, who
briefly and tearfully told her pathetic
story:
20, Madame! o, Mademoiselle ? I
implore you to give me one rose, only
one, for my dying child God, who
gave his Son for the redemption of the
world. will reward you"
Madame Paterson shrugged her
shoulders with a mocking laugh, aud
passed on. Her daughter, the brilliant
Edele, remarked that her father did
not buy roses for their weight 10 gold
to throw them away upon street beg
gars.
The door closed, and the woman
turned toward her home. On passing
the Church of Sainte- Britta, she per-
ceived the clergyman's wife laying
large bouquets Of roses on the altar, full
brown blossoms Of rich red, as we'll as
branches of exquisite buds of blush,
orange and pink.
The lady formed a sweet picture as
she bent over and arranged the floral
treasurers sent her by a rich parish
iOner of her husbands. Her blue eyes
sparkled with delight, and her voice
was soft and silvery. She was the mo.
ther fsix lovely children, ,andthe widow
felt that she would surely pity her in
her bitter grief. Full of these hopeful
thoughts, she entered the church, ap-
preached the altar, and preferred her
modest request for one rose wherewith
to gladden. the eyes of her dying child.
Madame Neils, although by no means
devoid of kindly feeling, was proud in
her own way, and had determined that
Sainte-Britte should be the best decor.
ated church in the town. In what she
mistook for pious enthusiasm, she for.
got that the only true temple of God is
the human heart-that a charitable
action is more precious in his sight
than thepostliest earthly Offering which
can be laid on his material altar. In
the ardOr Of her outward devotion, she
forgot that Christ himself had declared
"luasmuch as ye have done unto one
of the least OF these my brethern, We
have done 1t unto me, and in her mis-.
taken zeal she avowed that IL tvould ha