The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1919-04-05
DOROTHEA.

She stood under the Pickering
shadows of the -wreathed porch
holding the letter in frail little hand
that trembled with excitement. Two,
three times--she re-read-the shaken
lines, before she could quite compass
their full meaning, then letting the
crutch on which she had been leaning,
slip from her arm, she sank down
upon the bench behind her. breathless,
bewildered-a light like that of a new
day dawn, kindling her pale young
face.
A thousand dollars, the check was
in her grasp, thousand dollars left
to her by her old godmother to ego
and be cured For this eighteen
year-old Dorothea had been q cripple
from early childhood, hurt in a rough
game with her sturdy young, brother
They had been the motherless chill
dren of a dreamy, studious father,
who, anxious to give his helpless lit
tie girl a woman's care had married
again, plain, practical wife-alto-
gether different from the First love"
who had closed her sweet eyes, when
Dorothea-the Gift of God"-as with
| her dying breath she named her babe,
| was born. The second Mrs. Foster
was kind and wise according to her
lights, but other children had come
claiming her mothers care, the family
income was scarcely large enough for
their growing needs. Harold, the old
er son, had gone forth unprepared to
, make his own living Dorothea was
opening like day lily into waXen
bloom, amid shadows which she .ac-
cepted unquestioning. Her father ha
done his best for her, with the limited
means within his reach. There was
hope for her, he had been told, but it
would mean long months of treatment
under the care of a distinguished sur
geon in a distant city at a cost he had
never been able to afford ..
And now-nOw- -.
Il would have sent it to you long
ago." ran the old godmother's shaking
lines, "but it would have put me in
the poorhouse, child. Now-now-lit-
tie Dorothea, gift of God, take it, go
and be cured"
Go and be cured!"-a strange
thrill went through the girls slender
frame. Be cured 1t was something
of which she had never dreamed, for
which she had never hoped.
| nolo uo11ro- fooo fo1ioofo in foo.
ture as that of her beautiful young
mother had settled into sweet pa
tient peace, the violet eyes were deep
and shadowy as unsunned pools, the
lips had pathos even in their smile
Life had stretched dull, dim twi
was learning to tread it with gaze
uplifted to the stars; but noW-oh
what would her father, mother, sis.
ters,-oh, above ALL what would Har
old-Harold nearest and dearest to
her loving young heart--say to this?
The house was silent. All had gone
off on a picnic to the hillside that
Dorothea could not climb, but her best
truest, wisest friend was not far
Dear old Father Fabian, how he would
rejoice with her at this wonderful
news. How he would thank God. She
must go tell Father Fabian at once.
She caught up the crutches on
which she had learned to move swift
ly, and lightly, and sped away down
the shaded road to the little village
church of which Father Fabian's small
three-roomed rectory formed wing
He was seated at his door, under the
shade of great oak that lowered his
little home, an old man, who after
long years of toll in Gods vineyard
had been sent to ST. Anne's to rest.
| "Ah, my little bird" he said look
ing up with smile as Dorothea
swung up his path. you seem to fly
faster every day. You will outreacf
us all yet on your wings" But she
flung them down with a sudden i'm
patience and dropped on the bench a
his SIDE
'Oh Father, no, mo- will be soor
done with them forever, forever.
have had such news, such wonderful
news. My dear old godmother, Ma
dame Meredith, has left me money, {
thousand dollars, Father, to go and be
cured-be cured The words came
i breathlessly. Dorothea's pale cheeks
were flushed, the violet eyes shining
Father Fabian looked at his little
bird in bewilderment. ''To be cured
Dorothea, can you be cured, my
child?"
1 ooh yes, yes, the doctor said sc
long ago, only it would cost SO much
and we never, never had the money
never would have it | knew Now
now-oh Father, can scarcely believe
it. To think Of being straight an(
well, of walking, riding, dancing, do
ing like other girls, or living, Father
living my own life!'
Living your own life, repeated The
old priest softly. sa
| (Conttnued Dage ~