[To M. M. M.]
’Twas Easter evening and the church
Was filled with a waiting throng,
To listen to Easter Service
With its flowers, its light and song.
The organist, by the altar,
Touched the pretty ivory keys
And sent, thro’ the house of worship
The sweetest of melodies.
Just as the notes were ceasing,
And the people arose for prayer,
A little maid came softly in
And seated herself by the stair.
The service was just beginning,
She had never entered before;
But while passing had heard the music
And seen bright lights from the door;—
So she thought: “I’ll look in a moment,
To see what it all is about,—
And perhaps—if I steal in softly
That no one will find it out.”
She saw all the people standing
With heads bowed down in the light,
And she heard the words: “Our Father,
Bless this service here to-night.”
When the good man ceased his speaking
And each one had taken seat,
Again the notes from the organ
Thro’ the stillness sounded sweet.
A little girl came to the altar,—
“No older than I am”—she thought;
She was dressed in snowy whiteness,
In her hands sweet flowers she brought.
She spoke of the Christ—our Saviour,
In her pretty childish way;
She said: “The Lord is risen
And he walks with men to-day.”
“He loves us—He died to save us,”
Said the little maid in white—
“He went to the Home above us,
To Heaven where there is no night.”
And the little girl by the stair-way
In her tattered gown of red,
Listening, heard the story sweet
And treasured the words she said;
And she wondered, as she listened,
If the Saviour did truly care
For one so small and neglected
As she, sitting down by the stair.
And while she looked at the flowers
And heard the grand organ play,
And sweet voices of the children
Now telling of Easter day;
Her little heart grew lighter,
She said: “I’m alone no more
For Christ, who loves the children,
Is my Father now gone before.”
When the Easter Service was ended
She wended her way alone
Thro’ the streets of the great city
To the garret, her only home.
As she climbed the narrow stair-way,
Unlighted by cheering ray,
Her little heart kept singing
The songs of glad Easter day;
And the woman, who kept the lodging,
Heard the little maiden come
And asked, in her gruffest manner,
What kept her so long from home.
“’Twas the Easter Service, madam,
And the words”—she made reply;
“I’m not an orphan any more
For my Father dwells on high.”
“See! I’ve brought you an Easter lily
All snowy, and pure, and white,
Which a lady dropped in passing
Ere her coach wheeled out of sight.”
“I almost know you’ll like it
For ’tis part of the Easter day,
And the children spoke of the lilies
In the verses they had to say.”
When all was still in the lodging
And the rest were sleeping below,
Unmindful of Christ, the Saviour,
Who died for them long ago;
Then this loving little maiden,
Away from all human sight,
Knelt down, in the dingy garret,
To thank God for Easter night.