AN OLD BIBLE.
On the morning of the day upon which the events we have just related
occurred, little Redbud was sitting at her window, reading by the red
light of sunrise.
If anything is beautiful in this world, assuredly it is the fresh,
innocent face of a child, flooded with the deep gold of sunrise, and
with cheeks still bathed in the delicate rose-bloom of slumber.
Morning and childhood go together, as all things pure, and fresh, and
tender do; and in the face of the child, sitting there in the quiet
morning, an imaginative mind might have discerned, without difficulty,
more than one point of resemblance. The dews sparkling like diamonds
on the emerald grasses, were not brighter or fresher than her
eyes;--the merry breeze might have been gayer, but had not half as
much thoughtful joy and tenderness as her gentle laugh;--the rosy
flush of morning, with all its golden splendor, as of fair Aurora
rising to her throne, was not more fair than the delicate cheek.
In a single word, Miss Redbud--about whom we always grow
extravagant--was a worthy portion of the bright, fresh morning; and
the hardest-hearted individual who ever laughed at childhood, and
innocence and joy, (and there are some, God help them,) would have
thought the place and time more cheerful and inspiring for her
presence.
Redbud had been reading from a book which lay upon the window-sill.
The idle breeze turned over the leaves carelessly as though, like a
child, it were looking for pictures; and the words, "From dear Mamma,"
were seen upon the fly-leaf--in the rough uncouth characters of
childhood.
This was Redbud's Bible--and she had been reading it; and had raised
her happy eyes from the black heavy letters, to the waving variegated
trees and the bright sunrise, overwhelming them with its flush of
gold. Redbud was clad, as usual, very simply--her hair brushed back,
and secured, after the fashion of the time, with a bow of ribbon--her
arms bare to the elbow, with heavy falling sleeves--her neck
surrounded with a simple line of lace. Around her neck she wore the
coral necklace we have seen her purchase.
The girl gazed for some moments at the crimson and yellow trees, on
which a murmurous laughter of mocking winds arose, at times, and
rustled on, and died away into the psithurisma of Theocritus; and the
songs of the oriole and mocking-bird fluttering among the ripe fruit,
or waving up into the sky, brought a pleasant smile to her lips. The
lark, too, was pouring from the clouds, where he circled and flickered
like a ball of light, the glory of his song; and from an old, dead
oak, which raised its straight trunk just without the garden, came
the quick rattle of the woodpecker's bill, or the scream of that
red-winged drummer, as he darted off, playing and screaming, with his
fellows.
Beyond the garden all the noble autumn forests waved away in magic
splendor--red, and blue, and golden. The oaks were beautiful with
their waving leaves--the little alder tree exquisite in its faint
saffron--the tall, tapering pines rose from the surrounding foliage
like straight spears, which had caught on their summits royal robes
of emerald velvet, green at first, but, when the red light fell upon
them, turning to imperial purple, as of old, Emperors of Rome!
All these sights and sounds were pleasant things to Redbud, and she
gazed and listened to them with a species of tranquil pleasure, which
made her tender face very beautiful. At last her eyes returned to her
old Bible, and she began to read again from the sacred book.
She turned the leaf, and came to a passage around which faint lines
were traced in faded ink;--the words thus marked were those of St.
Paul, so sublime in their simplicity, so grand in their quiet majesty:
"Having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ."
These words had been marked by Redbud's mother, and as the child gazed
upon the faded ink, and thought of the dear hand which had rested upon
the page, a tender regret betrayed itself in her veiled eyes, and her
lips murmured, wistfully, "Mamma." Her down-cast eyes were veiled by
the long lashes; and the child's thoughts went back to the old happy
days, when her mother had taught her to pray, joining her infant
hands, and telling her about God and all his goodness.
It was not grief which the child felt, as her mental glance thus went
backward to the time when her mother was alive;--rather a tender joy,
full of pure love, and so far separated from the world, or the things
of the world, that her face grew holy, as if a light from heaven
streamed upon it. Oh, yes! she needed no one to tell her that her dear
mother's desire had been fulfilled--that she was with Christ; and her
heart rose in prayer to the Giver of all good, to bless and purify
her, and give her power to conquer all her evil thoughts--and passing
through the toils and temptations of the world, come finally to that
happy land where her dear mother lived and loved--from which she
looked upon her child. She prayed to be kept thus pure; for strength
to resist her sinful inclinations, ill-temper, discontent and
uncharitable thoughts; for power to divorce her thoughts from the
world, spite of its sunshine, and bright flowers and attractions--to
feel that holy desire to be with the dear Savior who had died for her.
The child rose with a countenance that was sacred for its purity, and
hopefulness, and trust. She gazed again upon the brilliant morning
land, and listened to the birds, and smiled--for in the sunlight, and
the carol of the bright-winged oriole, and every murmur of the merry
wind, she felt the presence of a loving and All-merciful Creator, who
would bless her, if she loved and obeyed Him.
And so the tender eyes again beamed with the unclouded light of
childhood, and the lips were again calm and happy. The child had
sought for peace and joy from the great central source, and found it.
Everything was now delightful--all the clouds had passed--and a bright
smile illumined her fresh face, and made the sunlight envious, as it
poured its fresh golden radiance upon her brow and cheek.
Redbud had just closed her Bible, and was about to put it away upon
the shelf, when a light step was heard in the room, and a laughing
voice cried, "Well, miss!" and two white arms encircled her neck, two
red lips imprinted a kiss upon her cheek.
The arms and the lips belonged to Fanny.