Virginia citizen. (Irvington, Va.) 1891-1921, 1909-01-22
A CHRISTMAS TRAGEDY.
| lDanville Register.l

| lDanville Register.l
There is singular pathos in the story
of the death of an unknown eight-year-
old boy under the wheels of a trolley
car in New York day or two ago.
The little fellow was hurrying across the
street to postoffice to mail a letter
addressed to ''Mr. Santa Claus" The
little lad, poorly clad and with frayed
and faded clothing, was doubtless the
darling of some poor mother and had
not attained that worldly wisdom of
many of his age who regard the Christ
mas saint as parental deception, an
idle myth. No doubt that mother could
ill afford to crafty the child's wistful
longing for the toys and the treasures
with which the city's shops and stores
CLEANED and glistened, and so had given
him the faint hope that perhaps Santa
Claus, who loves good boys, would
bring him his hearts desire. With
childish scrawl and the conscious pride
of being able to make his letters and
frame his simple words, we can picture
him as he sat intently writing his mes
sage to the patron saint, the unknown
parsonage to whom the poor and the
friendless may look with confidence for
all blessings and bounties. The eager
task concluded and a postage stamp
procured by dint of much coaxing, the
little lad, aglow with eagerness and
with unfaltering faith, hurried child
like to post his letter lest it reach
Santa too late, after the stock of the
toys he desired was exhausted and, in
tent on his mission, did not hear the
juggernaut rolling along across his
pathway. Alasl Too late both motor
man and trustful child saw the peril;
he is down and the relentless wheels
crush his young flesh. AS a policeman
and the awe-stricken spectators of the
pathetic tragedy rush forward to lift
the little agonized form from the rail,
his outstretched hand still clutches the
letter addressed to "Mr Santa Claus"
tightly in his hand and with his remain
ing strength he waves it till police
man takes it from the grimy fingers
and, crossing the street wipes a tear
from his eye as he deposits the missive
in the postal receptacle.
Perhaps he was but mailing the let
ter for baby sister or in order to ask
Santa to remember her, instead of him
self. Who knows? 1t matters not.
The faith of that child was not in a
mere human benefactor, but in a super
natural Being, who is Love, it matters
not by what name He is known to the
crudely finite child-mind, and this un-
faltering faith in the goodness and the
love of the Friend of Little Children is
lesson to his scoffing elders. What a
lesson of faithl The little hero's daunt-
less unselfish soul has gone to Him who
said: ''Suffer little children to come
unto me, for of such is the King dom
of Heaven" The treasures for which
the Juvenile mind yearned, the POOR
tawdry baubles so freely bestowed uron
the more fortunate in life are not CO M
parable to those the Christian w.rld
believes are reserved for this lad in
another life where Unselfishness is the
only law.
Are there not children today in Dan
vile (and elsewhere) who are awaiting
expectantly, eagerly and with beauti-
full faith response to their letters to
Santa Claus? Children down whose
cheeks tears will trickle as they realize
that Santa did not bring them aught
they wished or what they most desired.
but who will soon forget in new joys
the disappointments and the sorrows of
that morn of all the year. Is there not
sufficient of the Christ-spirit in the
city to realize and reward the faith of
these little ones and to brighten the
sad eyes and wipe away the tears? No
greater Christmas joy can thrill the
heart of any man or woman than that
which is the reward of unselfish
thoughtfulness and is reflex of the
child-joy he has promoted. Verify, 'it
is more blessed to give than to receive" T"