THE SUNNY SLOPE
After Connie's visit, when she had returned to Chicago to finish
learning how to write her knowledge, David and Carol with little Julia
settled down in the cottage among the pines, and the winter came and
the mountains were huge white monuments over the last summer that had
died. Later in the winter a nurse came in to take charge of the little
family, and although Carol was afraid of her, she obeyed with childish
confidence whenever the nurse gave directions.
"I feel fine to-day," David said to her one morning. "I think when
spring comes I shall be stronger again. It is a good thing to be
alive."
He glanced through the window and looked at Carol, buttoning Julia's
gaiters for the fifth time that morning.
"It is a pretty nice world to most of us," said the nurse.
"We each have a world of our own, I guess. Mine is Carol and Julia
now. I have no grouch at life, and I register no complaint against
circumstances, but I should be glad to live in my little world a long,
long time."
One morning when spring had come, when the white monuments melted and
drifted away with the clouds, and when the shadowy canyons and the
yellow rocky peaks stood out bare and bright, David called her to him.
"Look," he said, "the same old sunny slope. We have been climbing it
four years now, a long climb, sometimes pretty rough and rugged for
you."
"It was not, David,--never," she protested quickly. "It was always a
clear bright path. And we've been finding things to laugh at all the
way."
He pulled her into his arm beside him on the bed. "We are going to the
top of the sunny slope together. Look at the mountain there. We are
going up one of those sunny ridges, and sometime, after a while, we
will stand at the top, right on the summit, with the sky above and the
valleys below."
She nodded her head, smiling at him bravely.
"I think it is probably very near to Heaven," he said slowly, in a
dreamy voice. "I think it must be. It is so intensely bright,--see
how it cuts into the blue. Yes, it must be right at the gates of
Heaven. We will stand right there together, won't we?"
"David," she whispered.
"This is what I want to say. After that, there will be another way for
you to go, on the other side. Look at the mountains, dear. See, there
are other peaks beyond, with alternating slopes of sunshine and canyons
of shadow. It is much easier to stick to the sunny slopes when there
are two together. It is very easy to stagger off into the shadows,
when one has to travel alone. But, Carol, don't you go into the
shadows. I want to think always that you are staying in the sunshine,
on the slopes, where it is bright, where Julia can laugh and play,
where you can sing and listen to the birds. Stick to the sunny slopes,
dear, even when you are climbing alone."
Carol nodded her head in affirmation, though her face was hidden.
"I will, David. I will run right out of the shadows and find the sunny
slopes."
"And do not try to live by, 'what would David like?' Be happy, dear.
Follow the sunshine. I think it guides us truly, for a pure kind heart
can not mistake fleeting gaiety for lasting joys like you and I have
had. So wherever your journey of joy may take you, follow it and be
assured that I am smiling at you in the sunshine."
Carol stayed with him after that, sitting very quietly, speaking
softly, in the subdued way that had developed from her youthful
buoyance, always quick to smile reassuringly and adoringly when he
looked at her, always ready to look hopefully to the sunny slopes when
his finger pointed.