LITTLE BERTIE AND OTHERS.
In the beautiful Summer-land where I live, men and women who are always
kind and good are the teachers of little children. They once lived on
earth, and they loved children; so now, in the beautiful heavens, they
are teachers. If you know any man or woman who loves children, and is
kind to them, you may know these good people will some day be teachers
and guides of little ones in another world.
You would like to know about the Summer-land where I live. It is like a
large garden, extending as far as you can see or travel; beds of gay
flowers bloom there and sweeten the air with their fragrance; lakes and
brooks and fountains splash and gurgle with crystal water; there are
groves of trees, in the leafy branches of which birds sing and chirp all
the day; butterflies flit about from flower to flower, and the golden
sunlight falls in beauty over all.
In this vast garden we have our homes; some are snug little white
houses, covered with flowering vines, and shining out daintily from the
glossy green; others are stately habitations, large and roomy, and built
of white or rose-colored or golden-hued stone.
Here we live with those we love, and we strive to be good and kind to
all. The kinder and gentler we are the more beautiful our homes appear,
and the sweeter grow the lovely blossoms about us, because when anyone
is good, he sends out a bright, shining light, which influences and
envelopes all that it reaches, and beautifies it; but if anyone is
unkind, he sends out a dark, cloud-like vapor, that blights and destroys
the flowers, and darkens his surroundings.
The little children meet in groups in this fair garden, and, tended by
their kind teachers, they learn their lessons and sing their little
songs. Sometimes a new friend is brought to them, some little one who
has just left earth and is in need of kind friends and loving care, and
these children at once welcome the new-comer, give her a share of what
is theirs, love her, include her in their pleasures, do not ask whether
she was rich or poor, and make her happy. To this sweet place all who
wish can come, that is, if they are gentle and kind; but the light here
is so brilliant that it would hurt the eyes that are often filled with
anger. Some day, when your bodies die, you will come here, if you wish
to be taught, if you are children, or to be teachers if you are grown
up.
A little girl came to us from earth a short time ago; she was so white
and quiet and gentle that we dressed her in white and called her Lily.
She had never been to such a pretty place before; her parents were poor
and could not live in the country, but were forced to dwell in a little
narrow back street in the big city. You can imagine her delight at
finding herself in our Summer-land, where she could cull the beautiful
flowers and hear the birds sing, and play with them, too, all day, if
she wished. (The beautiful birds are very tame in our world; they perch
upon our shoulders and hands, singing all the time; they are not afraid,
and no one ever harms them.)
For a while this little girl was very happy and contented; she was such
a mild, gentle little thing that we all loved her at once. Soon I
perceived that she grew more quiet, white, and sad, and I found that she
was grieving because she had all these sweet joys around her, flowers,
birds, fields, friends, a beautiful home and kind teachers, while her
mother, and a little sister, who was lame, were obliged to live on earth
in the little dark street, with nothing beautiful to brighten their
lives. She wanted her mother, she wanted Nellie to share her new home,
or she wanted to go back and live with them. Then I showed her that
though it was not yet time for her dear mother and sister to come to the
Summer-land, yet she could go back to them, and make them feel better
and happier. She was all delight at the thought. Plucking handfuls of
the sweet flowers that grew around her, with her pure face all ashine
with love, she asked me to take her back to her earthly home, which I
was glad to do.
We found her mother hard at work sewing, and the little lame girl trying
to help her. We brought all our influence to bear upon the two, but
could not make them feel our presence. Leaving the flowers she had
gathered, spirit Lily came away disappointed and sad. But again and
again she tried, until at last, little lame Nellie began to see the
flowers and the light which shone around her angel sister, and finally
she could see that sister herself, converse with her, and tell her
wondering mother the many strange things told to her of the Summer-land.
Now our little Lily is contented and happy, anxious to learn in our
spirit school, for every day she returns to earth, to teach her sister
what she learns, to show her the flowers and birds of heaven, and to
bless and comfort her mother with her presence and her love.
Little Bertie was a sweet little boy, the only child his mother had; his
father had gone to dwell with the angels long ago, and his dear mother
was obliged to labor very hard for the support of herself and her little
boy. Bertie and his dear mamma lived in a little white house, that had a
flower garden attached to it, where the roses and pansies and sweet
pinks grew and blossomed through all the long, golden days of summer.
The little house stood just out of town, not very far from the big stone
house where the lady lived who supplied Bertie’s mother with sewing
work.
Little Bertie was only seven years old, but it was his delight to dig
and plant in the garden, to water the flowers, and to keep the weeds
from choking up the blossoming plants and shrubs; and while engaged in
this work, he would chirp and whistle to the dear little birds who came
to watch him, and to sing him sweet songs, as they swung merrily upon
the branches of the one cherry-tree that the garden contained.
One day, as little Bertie was working away and singing a childish song,
a tiny shadow fell across his path, and looking up he saw a little girl,
about five years old, standing beside him, and gazing wistfully at a
bunch of red roses he held in his hand, which he had just gathered for
his mother. The little stranger had evidently strayed through the open
gate; her pale face was very thin and wan, her large blue eyes appeared
as though they were only used to looking on disagreeable scenes; but now
they were lighted up with pleasure at the sight of the beautiful
flowers! Her clothing was poor and worn, and her whole appearance
betokened want and suffering.
Little Bertie’s curiosity, as well as sympathy, was aroused; he plied
the child with questions, but, alas, she could not answer, for she was
dumb. This she made him understand by signs, also that she had come a
long way and was tired; she stretched out her hands toward the blooming
flowers, as though they could give her rest.
Crowding her hands full of flowers, Bertie led the little wanderer in to
his mother, who soon made her more comfortable, by bathing her heated
body in cool water, and by feeding her with a bowl of fresh milk and
bread.
That night the little dumb girl slept in a nice, soft bed with Bertie’s
mother. The next day Bertie’s mother tried to find out the home of the
little girl, and for many days after, but all in vain. The angels had
led her to that pretty home, and the angels intended she should stay.
Her former home had been one of misery and want; her own mother was an
angel in heaven, and her father had neglected and beaten her. Bertie was
greatly delighted with his little sister, as he called the stranger; and
soon the two children learned to love each other very dearly.
Bertie and his mother were soon able to understand the signs the little
girl made, and there was no difficulty in knowing her wants. They called
her Daisy; and the two children were to be seen daily among the flowers,
which both fondly loved.
Bertie’s mother had to work harder than ever now, as she had another
little mouth to feed, and another little body to clothe; but she did not
fret, for she loved the little girl, who gave so much pleasure to her
Bertie. Sometimes, when the children were tired with work and play, and
had become quiet, or at the twilight hour, when the flowers and birds
were going to rest, little Daisy would creep to the feet of Bertie’s
mamma, and, fixing her gaze upon the far-away blue sky, would put up her
little hands with a look as though she heard sweet sounds, and saw
beautiful sights. And so she did; for the angels came very close to this
little girl, and sometimes, when they brought her flowers from the
Summer-land, she would see them and hear the sweet songs they sang.
The winter began to approach; summer faded away, and little Bertie was
very ill. The angels wanted him in their beautiful home, and one night,
just before the snowy Christmas time, he drew his mamma’s face down to
his and kissed it, put his arms around her neck, and whispered: “I am
going, mamma; papa says so. I see him; he says Daisy will be your child
now; the angels brought her here for you; and he says I can come to you
again.” And so he passed away to the pure spirit world, where all is
light and joy.
His mamma wept over the cold, white body of her little boy, from which
his sweet spirit had forever fled; but little Daisy only smiled as she
gazed upon the tiny form, robed in its snowy raiment; for she had seen
the spirit of her little playmate as it passed out from the earthly form
and was clasped in the arms of its angel father, and she knew that
Bertie had gone to live in that beautiful, wonderful land of sunshine
and flowers, which she sometimes visited in her dreams.
And how was it with our little Bertie? Oh, he was glad to come to our
bright Summer-land and play with the birds, which sang so sweetly to
him, as they perched upon his hand; for in the spirit world the little
birds have no fear; we do not confine them in cages, but they live in
the shrubs and among the flowers, and they are so tame they will come to
us when we call them, and alighting on hand or shoulder will delight us
with their melodious songs.
Bertie’s father lives not far away from the sweet spot which to me is
home in the spirit world; and so it happened that the little boy was
brought to me to learn of the many beautiful things in the Summer-land,
and to join with other little people under my charge in gaining a
knowledge of life and its duties. And what a dear, sweet little fellow
he is; always happy and contented, ever ready to part with the most
beautiful flower or bird he possesses, if it will enhance the pleasure
of some one else; always anxious to return to earth and bear messages
from spirits to those who long to hear from their friends. We all love
him for his goodness and truth.
It was about two weeks after Bertie’s flight to the Summer-land; the
snow lay thick and white around the earthly home of his mother; it had
been a hard day of toil and pain for that poor woman, for she was
obliged to labor, even while a severe cold, which had seized upon her,
seemed to tear her lungs with merciless fingers; and now in the twilight
hour, with little Daisy sitting at her feet, the tears fell thick and
fast from her weary eyes as she thought only of that little snow-covered
grave in the lonely church-yard.
Suddenly, a mellow, tender light, like the last soft gleam of sunset,
streamed into the quiet room; but the sun had long since set behind the
clouds, and there was no moon. The mother never stirred, but lay back in
her chair, her gaze riveted upon the face of the little dumb girl,
across which the strange light fell, lighting it up with untold beauty.
The eyes of the child were fixed on vacancy, as though she saw something
beyond the sight of mortals, as she truly did; for little Bertie,
hearing the gentle fall of his mother’s tears, even in his spirit home,
came lovingly back with hands filled with spirit flowers, and it was his
form that little Daisy saw in the gleam of that mellow light which the
angels brought to the cottage home.
Gliding up to the side of the little girl, Bertie filled her hands with
the flowers, and then and there, in the brief space of a moment, the
lonely, tired woman saw a sight she never forgot,—the form and features
of a little boy, her little boy, her Bertie, bending over the quiet form
of little Daisy, crowding her hands with the most beautiful flowers she
had ever beheld. At the same instant, a breath of perfume swept across
her senses, and she distinctly heard the words uttered, in the
well-known tones of her little boy: “For mamma.” Daisy, the child who
was both deaf and dumb to earthly things, heard the angelic whisper
also, and as a flash of joy lighted up her features, she stretched out
her handful of flowers to the startled woman.
At the instant, all sight and sound vanished, leaving only the darkened
room as before; but what had come to the child? Seizing a slate and
pencil from the floor, where she had left them when tired of tracing
lines upon the slate an hour before, little Daisy wrote in a clear, bold
hand: “Dear Mary, fear not; the angels guard and guide you; your dear
ones are not dead; they live in a bright home, where they wait for you;
they can return and bless; through this little child we can make our
presence known; we bring to you our love.—HENRY.”
Henry was the name of Bertie’s father, and Mary that of his mother. What
did it mean? Surely it must be true. Little Daisy could not print her
own name, and this was Henry’s handwriting. Thus the good woman thought;
but though somewhat frightened and anxious, her heart grew comforted; a
feeling of deep peace fell upon her spirit, and she ceased to mourn.
As for little Bertie, he was wild with delight. He had manifested his
presence to his mother; she could no longer fear that he was lost to
her; for had she not seen him with her own eyes. A happier little boy
did not dwell in the Summer-land.
But Bertie’s mother has never seen him in that way again, though he
returns daily with his offering of choice flowers. However, little Daisy
always beholds him, and she is enabled to tell his mother, by signs,
when he is at her side. The slate and pencil are kept constantly at
hand, and often, in the twilight hour, a strong influence comes over the
little girl, and she is made to write loving messages in the bold hand
of Bertie’s father, or in the printed letters of Bertie himself.
And the mother’s heart is comforted. She knows her dear ones live and
love her, and that she will meet them again. Daisy has proved a gift of
untold value to that lonely woman, for which she is deeply grateful;
while in his spirit home, Bertie works happily in helping others, and
learning all he can for himself.
Nor is this all: wealthy, kind people have taken an interest in Daisy,
and in co-operation with the angels are educating her, that she may
become an accomplished woman.
Spirit children learn most rapidly by coming back to earth, bearing
messages to mortals; they also grow beautiful and strong in so doing.
Knowledge increases with them, and they become wise and experienced in a
little while. They earn their lovely homes; all the bright, beautiful
things they have are theirs, because they have worked for them, and they
know how to enjoy them thoroughly.
Now, my dear children, if in these pages I have written or should write
any word or sentence that you do not understand, please to ask your kind
parents or some good friend to explain it to you; because in talking of
the work of spirits, I may not always employ the language which is
easily comprehended by such little folks as you. But I promise you to
write as simply as I can, that you may read and understand for
yourselves.
Sometimes the spirit children come to earthly homes where little
children in the body dwell, and try to bring them—the mortal
children—good hearts and pleasant lives. Messenger spirits bear messages
of love to the little folks on earth, and plant a desire to be kind,
loving, and gentle in the breasts of those who linger here.
I know of a home on earth where three little children live with their
mamma, who is a poor woman. There is a little boy in the Summer-land who
is a cousin to these children, and very often he comes from his home in
“Golden Nest” to play with his cousins; and every time he is with them
they grow so gentle, kind, and loving toward each other that their mamma
loves to watch them; and she feels very happy, even though she does have
to work so very hard.
These little folks do not know that the spirit boy is with them,
enjoying their games, and at the same time filling their hearts with
bright thoughts and the desire to be good to each other. Little Charley,
from Golden Nest, cannot bring his cousins costly toys or rich food, but
he can do what is much better, and that is he can make them happy by his
sunny presence. With him comes the sunshine, the fragrance of flowers,
and the music of birds,—all from the Summer-land. The little earthly
children cannot see the light, smell the perfume, or hear the birdies
sing; but they _feel_ all these things, and their hearts become bright,
fragrant, and sweet in consequence.
So Charley is a messenger bird who carries joy and gladness everywhere,
and the poor woman takes comfort in the gladness of her darlings,
wondering how they happen to be so cheerful, but feeling thankful that
their hearts are so bright. Little does she know that an angel from the
Summer-land is in her home, casting a ray of heavenly light over each
one. Now, little children, perhaps you may be favored by the company of
some little playmate from the Summer-land; and if you will only be kind
and loving to each other, I am sure you will feel the gladness which the
messenger spirits bring to your lives.
I know a little child who lives in the Summer-land whose name is Helen.
She passed away from the body when a little babe, but as that was years
ago she is now quite a good-sized girl. Helen is a great worker for
others; she is not at all selfish, but is never so happy as when she has
succeeded in making others feel glad. She is quite a traveler, too, and
journeys from place to place bearing messages of cheer, and seeking out
the lonely, sad-hearted spirits, in order to give them comfort and
peace.
I have heard of this spirit working in various cities on earth, and have
been told that she has consoled many mortals who were bowed down in
sorrow, by telling them of their dear little children or kind friends
who sent their love to them from the spirit world. Helen is an
angel,—that is, she is truly a messenger spirit, and everybody loves her
for her gentle kindness and her loving ways.
Not very long ago, Helen brought to our home in the Summer-land a dear
little boy whom she had just found. He was a waif who had died to the
earth a short time before, and had no kind mother or good father to take
care of him. He had been taken in charge by a loving spirit, but our
Helen had begged so hard to have him in her keeping that the gentle lady
let the child go. It seems the boy’s mother lives in the body, and that
she is very unhappy over the death of her little one. She has not been
very good in her life, and she thinks her child has been taken away from
her by an angry God to punish her for doing wrong. Helen has found out
that this woman is a medium, and she thinks she will have power to take
the little boy to her, so that the mother may become aware of the
presence of her child, and be made a better woman thereby.
And this is the work that Helen is at present trying to accomplish. The
little boy under her care is a bright, loving little fellow, and will, I
am sure, grow to be a noble youth. He repays the kindness lavished upon
him with gratitude and affection. All the best part of his nature is now
growing, and the good within him is coming up into outward life. He has
been taken to see his poor earth-bound mother, and Helen has succeeded
in making her think that her boy may be permitted to come to her. This
thought started within her mind a new train of reflection; and the woman
feels that if his pure spirit can come to visit her, she must try and
live a better life. She would not have her child see her do a wrong
act,—anything that would make him unhappy, or cause him to turn away
from her; and so she is trying very hard to do right and to be a better
woman.
One night the woman saw her child in company with another of larger
growth. Both beings looked so beautiful, their faces shone so brightly,
and such a sweet smile lingered on their lips, that a thrill of joy ran
through her weary frame. When she awoke and found, as she thought, that
it was all a dream, she wept bitterly; but since that time the poor
woman has not tasted a drop of liquor, nor said a bad word, nor done
anything that was naughty, because she feels that perhaps the angels are
watching her actions. And so this good work is going on, and two
children of the Summer-land may have the honor of redeeming a human life
from wrong-doing and sin.
* * * * *
This is the season of the year when the little people who dwell in happy
homes on earth receive pretty presents from their kind parents, or from
each other. The pleasant expressions: “I wish you a merry Christmas,”
and “I hope you will have a happy New Year,” are heard on all sides; and
the little children of the Summer-land feel so pleased at this, because
they like to see the earthly children joyous and glad.
At holiday times, my little friends, you are in a good condition to
receive visits from the angels, because you do not feel naughty, nor are
you unkind to each other, but each one of you rejoices over the pretty
gifts all have received, and are willing to share your sweetmeats with
your playmates and friends. So the little angel children who come around
you smile and feel glad that the bright Christmas and golden New Year
come to earth to bless each home, and to make the children happy. Just
at this time of the year you will have beautiful dreams; for when you
are snugly tucked in your little beds, and your tired eyelids have
dropped in slumber, our little messengers—spirits of the
Summer-land—have the power to take you away from earth up to their
bright home, where they show you all the lovely things that are to be
found there; then you have a joyous time until the morning light breaks
into your room, when you are conducted back to your bodies, and awake
refreshed; and, oh, so glad because of all the pretty sights you thought
you dreamed of, but which you really did see in the Summer-land.
Some of our spirit messengers have been watching a dear little girl who
lives in a big city on the earth. They love to see her patient little
face, all bright with smiles, watching her mamma to see if there is not
something she can do to help her. The mamma of this little girl, whom we
will call Bessie, is very poor, and she has to work hard in order to buy
food and clothing for herself and child. Bessie does not grumble and cry
when her mamma has nothing but bread and molasses to give her for
dinner, but she eats her food with a brave smile as she says: “Never
mind, mamma; when I get to be a big woman I’ll work hard, and then we’ll
have ’tatoes every day.”
The angels love to come to Bessie, because she is a very lovable child,
and they would rather visit her and sing their songs to make her slumber
sweet than to enter the luxurious homes of wealth and gaze upon all the
beautiful objects they contain.
Last Thanksgiving, Bessie had a couple of cookies and a big red apple to
go with her bread; these her kind mamma bought her as a treat. Christmas
had almost come, but the little girl did not look for any gift to come
with it, because, she said: “Santa Claus can’t find out everyone, and so
I guess he’ll not come this way this year.”
A band of spirit children determined among themselves to give Bessie a
good Christmas; so they went out here and there into the homes of the
rich in the big city, and tried to influence those who lived therein to
do good unto others. At last they found a little girl who wanted to make
some one happy; and so they kept putting thoughts into her head how to
help others. When she went out to play, the spirit children would make
her walk up and down before the old house where Bessie lived, and
sometimes she saw the child gazing shyly at her from the window. At last
the idea popped into the head of Sadie—the little girl whose parents
were wealthy—that she “would like to give that little bit of a
thing”—meaning Bessie—a good Christmas; so she told her mother what she
wished to do, and asked her assistance.
I cannot tell you all that was done; but early Christmas morning
Bessie’s mamma was called to her door by a loud rap, and there stood a
colored man, who bowed, lifted a large basket into the room, and
disappeared. A note attached to the basket read: “For the little girl
and her mamma who live here, with a merry Christmas from Santa Claus.”
Oh, the nice things to eat that were in that basket, enough to last a
number of days. There were also a package of toys, a pair of mittens,
and a bright plaid dress for Bessie, with a warm gray shawl for the
mamma. You may imagine Bessie’s joy when all these things were shown
her. She clapped her hands again and again, while her good mother’s
heart was full of thankful praise to the unknown friend who had made her
little one so happy. Sadie also enjoyed her Christmas better than ever
before; for she not only felt the results of a good deed in her heart,
but also felt the sweet influence of approving angels surrounding her,
while the messenger spirits from the Summer-land rejoiced with exceeding
joy in the happiness of each one.