A Little Pilgrim | Page 5

said to her companion, which was a
speech such as she used to make upon the earth where people thought
her little remarks disjointed, and did not always see the connection of
them. But her friend of heaven knew what she meant.
"I do nothing but wonder," she said, "for it is all so natural--not what
we thought."
"Is it long since you have been here?" the Pilgrim said.
"I came before you--but how long or how short I cannot tell, for that is
not how we count. We count only by what happens to us. And nothing
yet has happened to me, except that I have seen our Brother. My
mother sees Him always. That means she has lived here a long time and
well--"
"Is it possible to live ill--in heaven?" The little Pilgrim's eyes grew
large as if they were going to have tears in them, and a little shadow
seemed to come over her. But the other laughed softly and restored her

confidence.
"I have told you I do not know if it is heaven or not. No one does ill,
but some do little and some do much, just as it used to be. Do you
remember in Dante there was a lazy spirit that stayed about the gates
and never got farther? but perhaps you never read that."
"I was not clever," said the little Pilgrim, wistfully. "No, I never read it.
I wish I had known more."
Upon which the beautiful lady kissed her again to give her courage, and
said--
"It does not matter at all. It all comes to you whether you have known it
or not."
"Then your mother came here long ago?" said the Pilgrim. "Ah, then I
shall see my mother too."
"Oh, very soon--as soon as she can come; but there are so many things
to do. Sometimes we can go and meet those who are coming, but it is
not always so. I remember that she had a message. She could not leave
her business, you may be sure, or she would have been here."
"Then you know my mother? Oh, and my dearest father too?"
"We all know each other," the lady said with a smile.
"And you? did you come to meet me--only out of kindness, though I do
not know you?" the little Pilgrim said.
"I am nothing but an idler," said the beautiful lady, "making
acquaintance. I am of little use as yet. I was very hard worked before I
came here, and they think ft well that we should sit in the sun and take
a little rest and find things out."
Then the little Pilgrim sat still and mused, and felt in her heart that she
had found many things out. What she had heard had been wonderful,
and it was more wonderful still to be sitting here all alone save for this
lady, yet so happy and at ease. She wanted to sing, she was so happy,
but remembered that she was old and had lost her voice, and then
remembered again that she was no longer old, and perhaps had found it
again. And then it occurred to her to remember how she had learned to
sing, and how beautiful her sister's voice was, and how heavenly to
hear her, which made her remember that this dear sister would be
weeping, not singing, down where she had come from--and
immediately the tears stood in her eyes.
"Oh," she said, "I never thought we should cry when we came here. I

thought there were no tears in heaven."
"Did you think, then, that we were all turned into stone?" cried the
beautiful lady. "It says, God shall wipe away all tears from our faces,
which is not like saying there are to be no tears."
Upon which the little Pilgrim, glad that it was permitted to be sorry,
though she was so happy, allowed herself to think upon the place she
had so lately left. And she seemed to see her little room again with all
the pictures hanging as she had left them, and the house darkened, and
the dear faces she knew all sad and troubled; and to hear them saying
over to each other all the little careless words she had said as if they
were out of the Scriptures, and crying if any one but mentioned her
name, and putting on crape and black dresses, and lamenting as if that
which had happened was something very terrible. She cried at this and
yet felt half inclined to laugh, but would not because it would be
disrespectful to those she loved. One thing did not occur to her, and
that was that they would be carrying her body, which she had left
behind her, away to the grave.