JOSEY'S CHRISTMAS.
Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, had come and gone; and now Josey was
seven years old, and Emma was baby no longer. There was a tiny girl in
the cradle who was named Grace. The family had returned to their own
home; Mr. Codman preached to his old people.
Aunt Fanny was still with them, though she had agreed to go on a mission
to India with a gentleman now studying for the ministry. She was the
same ardent girl as before, loving her brother's family, and devoted to
their comfort.
Joseph had from his birth been much in her care and was a prime
favorite. She had grieved with his parents at the unkindness and
impatience he had sometimes shown his sister; and she rejoiced with
them that he was becoming so kind and affectionate.
Though Joseph was so young, yet his parents hoped he had become a lamb
of the Good Shepherd. He had faults, as all children have; but he tried
to correct them. His face sometimes flushed when Emma teased him or
meddled with his books, of which he was very careful; but he never
struck her now, and seldom was angry but a minute.
"I try to think," he said to his mamma, "that she don't know better, and
that she's almost always good; and if I wait a minute and remember about
Christ forgiving me, then I feel happy right away."
Josey showed in one way that he was a Christian child. He loved
everybody, and tried to be good to all.
Among the poor people belonging to his father's church, no one was more
welcome to their humble cottages than little Josey. He always had a
pleasant word for each, and often spent hours of his play-time in
reading to the old women of the parish.
At Christmas, his greatest treat, and one that he spent weeks in
preparing for, was to take his box sled (the one he drew his sister in,)
and fill it with the presents he had prepared for his friends.
"Though they are poor," he said, over and over, "I love them dearly,
and I want to have them know it." So he spent all his pocket-money in
buying what mamma and Aunt Fanny thought would be useful.
A pair of mittens for one poor orphan, a flannel shirt for a rheumatic
old man, a pair of glasses for another, and plenty of pies, which he had
hired cook to make. He hired her, because he wanted to feel that the
gifts were his and not his mother's.
Do you wonder every body, rich and poor, loved him, and that, wherever
he went, blessings were showered on his head?
I don't mean those worthless words that so many beggars use without
meaning: "A thousand blessings on your head, Miss."
Oh, no! But real, heart-felt prayers that God would be his Father and
Friend forever.
Do you suppose Josey was a cross, sulky boy? Can you imagine him wearing
a frown? or with his lips in an ugly pout?
No, indeed! It is not possible for one who cultivates such love for all
around him; for one who tries in this way to imitate the example of his
blessed Saviour to be unhappy or cross. Those children who think only of
themselves, who are selfish and greedy, who never heed the blessed
words, "Be ye kind one to another," are the persons to wear sour faces
and pouting lips.
Don't you remember what the good Book says, "Her ways are ways of
pleasantness and all her paths are peace." That means Wisdom's ways, and
one of these paths is love; love to God and love to those around us.
You can well imagine that Josey's father and mother, and aunt and nurse,
were delighted in seeing him growing up to be a good boy; and each of
them were ready to assist him in correcting his faults.
He was neat and orderly; keeping his little treasures arranged nicely
in the drawers mamma gave him, and his clothes each on their own hooks
in his closet. But Joseph was not always prompt in attention to his
duties. He liked so much to hear the talk at table or at the fireside,
that it was a real trial to him to leave the pleasant company, and the
delightful things that were being said; and he often lingered when he
ought to have been on his way to school.
Aunt Fanny used sometimes, by an anxious glance toward the clock, to
remind him of his duty, for she hated to have her favorite reproved; or
his mamma would say gently, "You'll be late again, Josey." If the
conversation was very interesting, he would only push back his chair a
little and wait for papa to say,--
"My son, go this moment."
One day his mamma had a long talk with him on the subject of
procrastination, after which he did much better.
She explained to him that the meaning of the command, "Honor thy father
and thy mother," was not only that a child must obey when told to "go"
or "stay;" but he must strive in every thing to act as would please
them. He must honor them by anticipating their wishes, by acting when
they were absent as he knew they would approve if they were present.
She told him that he could please the Lord Jesus by a dutiful attention
to their desires, such as, always to be in season for school, or
punctual to any engagement, just as much as by being honest and
truthful. The dear Saviour would look into his heart and know he was
trying to do right out of love for him.