five years, certainly,
she had hidden presents for Mama and Papa in their own bureau
drawers, and harbored a number of secrets sufficiently large to burst a
baby's brain, had it not been for the relief gained by whispering them
all to Mama, at night, when she was in her crib, a proceeding which did
not in the least lessen the value of a secret in her innocent mind. For
five years she had heard "'Twas the night before Christmas," and hung
up a scarlet stocking many sizes too large for her, and pinned a sprig of
holly on her little white night gown, to show Santa Claus that she was a
"truly" Christmas child, and dreamed of fur-coated saints and toy-packs
and reindeer, and wished everybody a "Merry Christmas" before it was
light in the morning, and lent every one of her new toys to the
neighbors' children before noon, and eaten turkey and plum pudding,
and gone to bed at night in a trance of happiness at the day's pleasures.
Donald was away at college now. Paul and Hugh were great manly
fellows, taller than their mother. Papa Bird had grey hairs in his
whiskers; and Grandma, God bless her, had been four Christmases in
heaven. But Christmas in the Birds' Nest was scarcely as merry now as
it used to be in the bygone years, for the little child that once brought
such an added blessing to the day, lay, month after month, a patient,
helpless invalid, in the room where she was born. She had never been
very strong in body, and it was with a pang of terror her mother and
father noticed, soon after she was five years old, that she began to limp,
ever so slightly; to complain too often of weariness, and to nestle close
to her mother, saying she "would rather not go out to play, please." The
illness was slight at first, and hope was always stirring in Mrs. Bird's
heart. "Carol would feel stronger in the summer-time;" or, "She would
be better when she had spent a year in the country;" or, "She would
outgrow it;" or, "They would try a new physician;" but by and by it
came to be all too sure that no physician save One could make Carol
strong again, and that no "summer-time" nor "country air," unless it
were the everlasting summer-time in a heavenly country, could bring
back the little girl to health. The cheeks and lips that were once as red
as holly-berries faded to faint pink; the star-like eyes grew softer, for
they often gleamed through tears; and the gay child-laugh, that had
been like a chime of Christmas bells, gave place to a smile so lovely, so
touching, so tender and patient, that it filled every corner of the house
with a gentle radiance that might have come from the face of the
Christ-child himself. Love could do nothing; and when we have said
that we have said all, for it is stronger than anything else in the whole
wide world. Mr. and Mrs. Bird were talking it over one evening when
all the children were asleep. A famous physician had visited them that
day, and told them that sometime, it might be in one year, it might be in
more, Carol would slip quietly off into heaven, whence she came.
"Dear heart," said Mr. Bird, pacing up and down the library floor, "it is
no use to shut our eyes to it any longer; Carol will never be well again.
It almost seems as if I could not bear it when I think of that loveliest
child doomed to lie there day after day, and, what is still more, to suffer
pain that we are helpless to keep away from her. Merry Christmas,
indeed; it gets to be the saddest day in the year to me!" and poor Mr.
Bird sank into a chair by the table, and buried his face in his hands, to
keep his wife from seeing the tears that would come in spite of all his
efforts. "But, Donald, dear," said sweet Mrs. Bird, with trembling voice,
"Christmas day may not be so merry with us as it used, but it is very
happy, and that is better, and very blessed, and that is better yet. I suffer
chiefly for Carol's sake, but I have almost given up being sorrowful for
my own. I am too happy in the child, and I see too clearly what she has
done for us and for our boys." "That's true, bless her sweet heart," said
Mr. Bird; "she has been better than a daily sermon in the house ever
since she was born, and especially since she was taken ill." "Yes,
Donald and Paul and Hugh were three strong, willful,
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