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— Page 63.
NG THE SNOWDROP.
CHARLIE GATHERI
|THE SNOWDROPS
OR
LIFE FROM THE DEAD
By THE AUTHOR
: OF *
-‘** THOUGHTS ON THE LORD’S PRAYER;†“ LITTLE
BUITTERCUP;â€. ETC, ETC.
LONDON
S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO.
9 PATERNOSTER ROW
&elo*s—1—
C o—
=> CONTENTS. Kom
Sms ~~
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
THE SNOWDROP’S SOLILOQUY—MASTER CHARLIE AND
RALPH, THE GARDENER—PLANTING THE BULBS
- —WAITING—MISS MARGARET’S ILLNESS—RALPH’S
BELIEF, . : : ; %
. . e .
CHAPTER II.
SNOWY AND LITTLE DROP—THEIR TALK—LITTLE
DROP’S COMPLAINT — SNOWY’S EXPLANATION—
THE GARDENER’S LOVE, ; ‘ :
CHAPTER III
CHARLIE’S VISIT TO THE SICK-ROOM—A NICE TALK
WITH MARGARET—CHARLIE’S SORROW— VERSE
. ABOUT THE SNOWDROP—OUR SAVIOUR’S EXAMPLE
—AUNT COMES IN--~THE BURNT CHILD, . .
CHAPTER IV.
MARGARET AND HER AUNT CONVERSE—DESIRES TO
BREAK THE NEWS TO CHARLIE—MARGARET’S
REGRET—-THE SOLDIER’S VERSES,
14
19
26
vi- Contents.
CHAPTER V.
LITTLE DROP AND SNOWY TALK—THE WAY TO LIGHT
o.: AND BEAUTY—LONGING TO SEE THE GARDENER,
CHAPTER VI.
CHARLIE’S HAPPY DAYS—HIS EARNEST LONGING—
RALPH BRINGS FLOWERS TO MARGARET—THE
CONVERSATION ABOUT THEM—THE INVITATION
TO MARY, ‘ . .
CHAPTER VII.
HAPPY SUNDAY—“ THE HAREBELL AND THE CHILD 22
—MEG TELLS OF HER GOING†AWAY-—CHARLIE’'S
GRIEF—NOT LOST—GOD A LOVING FATHER,
CHAPTER VIII.
CHARLIE BEGINS TO REALISE THE TRUTH—ANOTHER
VISIT TO MARGARET—THE GOOD SHEPHERD AND
THE WANDERING SHEEP, . .
CHAPTER IX.
A FEBRUARY MORNING—SNOWY COMES TO THE SUR-
FACE—HER GRATITUDE—THE GARDENER’S VISIT
—CHARLIE GATHERS SNOWY—GIVES HER TO
MARGARET-—MEG ENTERS HEAVEN—LITTLE: DROP
APPEARS—PLACED IN CHARLIE’S BIBLE,
PAGE
43
52
57
Fue Swowarops.
THE SNOWDROP’S SOLILOQUY—MASTER CHARLIE AND
RALPH, THE GARDENER—PLANTING THE BULBS—WAIT-
ING—MISS MARGARET’S ILLNESS—RALPH’S BELIEF.
4] HERE he goes! first there’s one,
then the other. How I wish he
would forget me!†said a little
snowdrop bulb to itself, as it lay
on the ground.
A tall gardener was busy with a
spade planting crocus and snowdrop bulbs
in a pretty bank. First one handful, then
another, quickly disappeared, and now he
stood with the spud hanging in one hand,
while with the other he rubbed his head, as if
in consideration. Then he looked round, and
spied our little friend.
“ Ah, poor wee thing,†he said, “we must
7
8 The Snowdrops-; or,
not forget you, though you are such a mite;
and here’s another,†and he picked up the two
tiny bulbs, and held them in his great hand.
At the same moment came a sound of little
feet running down the garden path, and a little
boy came quickly along.
“Oh, Ralph,†he cried, “have you planted
all the bulbs? I did so want to see you do it.â€
“Did you, Master Charlie? I thought you
were with Miss Margaret, perhaps, and did not
want to come, and I’m too busy to wait.
How is your sister, Master Charlie?â€
“Very tired, Ralph, to-day ; but she will be
better when the winter is over and spring
comes. Every one says she will. Don’t you
think so too, Ralph?†asked the child, as he
walked along the bank, inspecting the
gardener’s work.
“Indeed I hope she may be, sir,†replied
Ralph; ‘but he drew his rough hand across his
eyes, and in his heart he said, “Ah! Miss
Margaret. She will be quite well by then,
quite well, and bright, and strong; but it will
be in God’s heaven, and not on His earth;â€
and he looked pityingly at the boy, whose all-
in-all was his sister Margaret.
“What are you thinking of, Ralph, standing
so still? asked Charlie. “Do you see some-
thing up in the sky?â€
Life from the Dead. 9
“Nothing, except the bright white clouds;
but come and see what I have in my hand, sir.â€
“Oh, what darlings!†cried Charlie, as he
saw the little bulbs ; what pretty little things,
and what nice brown coats they have. What
are you going to do with them, Ralph?â€
-“Would Master Charlie like me to plant
them in his own bank of flowers?â€
“Oh, Ralph, I should like it so much! Will
you do it? - Then they will be all my own,
and I shall be so glad when they come up,
and I can give them to Margaret;†and -
seizing hold ofthe old Scotchman’s. hand, he
drew him along, down the long, broad path,
through the twisting little avenue of nut-trees,
at-the end of which was the prettiest little bank
of flowers you ever saw.
Late roses were still blooming gaily, and
sweet-scented verbenas were making the air
pleasant. The flowers which the first early
frost had killed were already taken away ; for
the kind gardener loved to keep the little
boy’s flower-bed as neat and bright as
‘possible.
“Where shall I put them, Master Charlie?â€
“Let me see. Not too high up.†And then
he chose a warm, cosy little nook. “Here,â€
he said, “just here; it looks so warm and
nice.â€
TOT The Snowdrops ; or,
He looked eagerly while Ralph made two
little holes, and then he dropped a little bulb
into each, and watched till the soft earth had
covered them lovingly up.
“And now, Ralph, how soon will they come
up ? »â€
“Oh, not fora long time, Master Charlie—
not till after the winter is passed and gone—
not till after there has been plenty of snow,
and ice, and frost.â€
“But oh, I can’t wait so long as that!†said
Charlie, in a sorrowful voice. “I thought
they would be up by next week, or in two
weeks, perhaps.â€
Ralph laughed.
“Oh, Ralph, don’t laugh—please don’t; for
I do so want them to come up. What. can
I do?†“You can do nothing, Master
Charlie, but wait.â€
“Waiting is so stupid and long.†And
when the gardener did not answer, he added,
rather crossly, “Isn’t it, Ralph?â€
“Well, Master Charlie, I was just wondering
how Miss Margaret found it, waiting so long
to get strong and well? When I see her pale,
white face so bright and cheerful, I think of
what we hear in church sometimes, about
‘ patience having her perfect work.’â€
“ T asked her what that meant,†said Charlie,
WO,
Uy, A (
_————— fi
MASTER CHARLIE AND RALPH.—Sage 8,
Life from the Dead. 13
“and she said it meant to be quite sure that
all that God sent us was love; but she’s waited
so long, that she’s used to it, and-I don’t
think she minds it now.â€
“I. don’t know, Master Charlie, I don’t
know ;†and the old gardener shook his head
gravely ; “anyhow, she had her degznning of
waiting, just as you must have yours.â€
“Well, Ralph, I-only wanted to have the
snowdrops quickly to give them to her, for she
does so love them. She has a hymn some-
thing about them. And I like to take her all
my flowers and see her smile at them.â€
“Well, Master Charlie, you’d best run and
ask her what she thinks about it all. She’ll
~ tell you.†And the little fellow ran merrily
off, stopping now and then to look at some
leaf, or tree, or stone.
Ralph stood watching him for a moment,
and then went to his work.
“Eh!†he said to himself, as he walked
away, “I’m thinking she ’ll be smiling at fairer
- flowers than ours before the spring comes, and
wearing a robe.as white and spotless as the
snowdrop’s, and looking into the face of the
Father she loves and trusts so well. No
wonder He wants such a child home in His
own kingdom. But eh! we shall miss her—
we shall miss her downright sadly!†;
CHAPTER IL
SNOWY AND LITTLE DROP—THEIR TALK—LITTLE DROP’S
COMPLAINT-—SNOWY’S EXPLANATION—THE GARDENER’S
LOVE.
One
f ND what did the little snowdrop bulb,
who wished that the gardener would
AME, — forget to plant her, think now, as she
egy lay covered up in the earth?
soe “ What a dreadful place!†she
* said to herself. “How dark and
miserable! I shall never be happy in such a
fearful place as this, and my little brown coat
is all rubbed and spoilt! Oh, what shall I do?
How I wish I could get out;†and she tried
to turn about in the little hole, and to push
away the soft earth.
“It’s no use—no use at all,†she said,
angrily ; “oh, what shall I do?†and with
these words she gave a great push, and
knocked against something harder than the
earth.
“Js that you, Snowy?†asked a voice.
14
Life from the Dead. 15
“Why, what is the matter? Bright, happy
little Snowy making such a noise and fuss!â€
“And would not you make such a noise
and fuss, if you were in such a horrid dark
place as I am?â€
“Why I am here also, close beside you.â€
“Who are you?†asked Snowy, crossly.
“Tam Little Drop. Don’t you remember
me? We lay side by side in the basket in
the shop, and afterwards in the paper bag in
the gardener’s toolhouse.â€
“Of course I remember you, Little Drop;
but I’m so angry and cross, I can’t speak
nicely.â€
“But what is the matter?â€
“The matter! How can you be so stupid
as not to know? Do you like being in this
dark, hard, ugly place? Do you like this earth
to come pushing down upon you, and burying
you up, and shutting out every grain of light?â€
“Well, Snowy, I can’t say I dhe it; but
I do not want to be anywhere else!â€
“Not want to be anywhere else! Why,
_ I want to be back in the shop, where there
were such beautiful flowers to see, and such
delicious scents. I would rather be lying on
the ground than shut up in this place. Oh,
I did so long and wish that the gardener
would have forgotten to plant me!â€
16 The Snowdrops ; or,
“He.is much too good and kind to have
done that,†said Little Drop, decidedly.
“Too good and kind! I do not call it
good and kind to shut me up here, where I can
see nothing, and hear nothing, and do nothing.
It just shows he does not care anything for
me, but to.get me out of the way.â€
“Snowy, it is just because the gardener
loves his flowers that he has put us here.â€
“Nonsense!†exclaimed Snowy.
“But itis true. Don’t you remember the
strange things the bigger bulbs told us, when
we were in the box?â€
“What about?†asked Snowy.
“Why, they said we should foe always w wear
these brown coats.â€
“But I like my little brown coat so much,
and now it has got so dusty and cuy, and
almost torn.â€
“Poor little Snowy! I am very sorty ; ; but
one day you will have a lovely white Gress to
wear instead.â€
“Shall 1? How do you know?â€
“That was what the big bulbs said. They
said we should always be snowdrops, but at the
same time we should change our dress. We
shall become beautiful, and white, and pure.â€
“Oh, how I should like that!†exclaimed
Snowy, with delight ; and then she suddenly
Life from the Dead. 17
became very sad, and then angry, and cried
out passionately—
“Oh, but I shall never be that—never,
never !â€
“Snowy, why not?â€
“How can I grow white and pure in this
dark place? We shall only grow black, and
ugly, and hideous. Oh, the gardener! how
unkind he is to put me here! If only he
would have let me be!â€
“Snowy, you could not have grown like that
if he had left you where you were,†said Little
Drop, gently. “It is because he loves you,
-and wants you to be beautiful, that he has
put you in this hard place. He picked you
up gently, Snowy, and called you ‘a poor wee
thing ;’ and he would not have done that if
he did not care about you.â€
“But does he care? I thought he only
wanted to get us out of the way.â€
“Out of the way! Oh no! He wants us
to grow white and pure, that we may make
his garden beautiful and fair, and may please
and satisfy him when he looks at us.â€
“But, Little Dropâ€â€”and Snowy began to
‘speak quietly and humbly—“how can we
-grow like that? I should like to do it: and
if he really loves us, and cares for us, I should
so like to grow as he wants me to. But it
B
18 The Snowdrops ; or, Life from the Dead.
seems impossible in this hard place, with
nothing to do;†and she grew very sorrowful.
“But it is this hard place which is to make
us grow as he wishes us; it is the dark earth,
and the moisture, which will make us grow.
Oh, Snowy, I think it will be so lovely when
we come out white in the gardener’s beautiful
garden.â€
“T cannot think how that will be.â€
“And I cannot either, Snowy; but I know
it will be at last; and just now all we must
do is to take everything just as it comes, just
as he sends it—rain and darkness, and cold
and heat-—everything ; and at last we shall
see him again.’
“Oh, Little Drop, how glad I am I found
you! Tam so glad to do it all, now that I know
the gardener loves us, and that we are going
into his garden. I hope I shall work hard —
and well; but oh! I do wish it were light.â€
“But it will be light soon; and when we
come to it at last, we shall not be ashamed to
see it, for we shall go out white and pure to
meet it.â€
Then silence reigned in the little under-
- ground habitation, and the workers worked
joyfully and hopefully towards the light that
was coming, and towards the beautiful garden
that was waiting and longing for them.
CHAPTER III.
CHARLIE’S VISIT TO THE SICK-ROOM—A NICE TALK WITH
_ MARGARET—CHARLIE’S SORROW—VERSE ABOUT THE
- SNOWDROP—OUR SAVIOUR’S EXAMPLE—AUNT COMES
IN—THE BURNT CHILD.
CR
@ HARLIE ran about the garden for
some time, and at last turned his
impatient little feet towards the
ag house, and scampered upstairs—
quickly and noisily at first, then
quietly ; and then he turned the
handle of a door very softly, and peeped into
the room.
“Oh, you are awake!†he cried, as he
_ bounded over the floor, and nestled down in
the loving arms that stretched out to receive
him.
It was such a pretty room, bright with
flowers and pictures, and all that could make
asick-room pleasant. A fire burned cheerfully
in the grate, and on a low easy couch lay a
young girl, perhaps hardly twenty years old,
white, and helpless, and ill, but with a face
19
20 : The Snowdrops ; or,
that reminded you of one of those happy
autumn evenings when the sun is still bright,
and the grass and leaves dripping with
refreshing wet, after a long, dry, hot summer.
“My wee Charlie,†she said, “I have been
waiting for you, and wondering why you did
not come.â€
“Did you want me, Margaret?†he asked,
with the wistful look in his blue eyes that told
her what answer he was longing for.
“So much, darling! I was getting to feel
quite lonely, and looking at my watch every
quarter of an hour. Tell me, now, what you
have been doing. Been in the garden, I sup-
pose? Was it very fresh and sweet ?â€
“Yes, Meg, very nice. But, do you know,
I’m so sorry !â€
“Sorry, wee Charlie! Why? Get your
cosy chair, and come and be comfortable by
my sofa, and we’ll have a nice talk.â€
It was such a cosy chair, a regular little
armchair, lined with bright blue, and looking
as if it were always inviting some one to sit
down and rest.
It had been Charlie’s for more than a year
now, and he loved it all the more because
it was Margaret’s present to him on his sixth.
birthday.
He drew it beside her, and sat down.
Life from the Dead. 21
“Well, now, tell me what you are sorry
about,†she said, looking at him with such
sweet eyes, that he began to feel he should
not be sorry much longer. He put one little
leg over the other, and held it tightly with
both his hands, as he said—
“Ralph says my snowdrops won’t come up
till the end of the winter.â€
Margaret laughed at him.
“Why, Charlie, is that all?â€
“But, I wanted them to come up at once,
Meg!†he exclaimed.
“ But, darling, they can’t come up so quickly.
And shall I tell you what would happen if
they did? The frost would come down and
kill them the very first night ; so it would be
very bad for the poor snowdrops.’â€
“ But I want you to have them.â€
“ But I can wait; and think how busy they
will be all the time they are covered up from
the rough cold weather, sending little roots
down into the ground, and little threads to go
and suck the moisture out of the nice warm
earth ; and then, when it begins to get a little
warmer, one day wee Charlie will run down
to his bank, and see two little green blades
: piercing up and up; and at last there will be
a lovely flower—a beautiful white bell.â€
“Yes, yes!†cried Charlie; “and then he
22 The Snowdrops ; or,
will pick it, and come running to bring it to
his Meg. And won’t you be pleased with it ?â€
“So pleased, my pet,†she answered.
“Meg, do you think perhaps you: will be
well enough to come and pick it for yourself?â€
“No, darling, I don’t think I shall be.â€
“But in the summer-time you will be?†he
asked, anxiously. ek
“We must wait till the summer comes,†she
said brightly. “I long to see it again.â€
“Meg, what is that verse about the snow-
drop that you know ?â€
“The one I was saying to auntie the other
day? This is it—
‘Make Thou my spirit pure and white,
As are the frosty skies,
Or this first snowdrop of the year
That in my bosom lies.’
It will be nice to be quite pure and good, wee
Charlie, won’t it?†.
“Yes, Meg, darling ; but I think you are,
nearly.â€
“Think of the white snowdrop, and then
you will think differently. Fancy what it
would be—never, never to think a wrong
thought again, or be impatient or angry, or
tired of being good—to be as patient and
gentle as the Lord Jesus Christ was.â€
Life from the Dead. 23
“Tt would be nice, Meg; but when shall
we be so?â€
“Not till we are with God in heaven: but
all the time we are here we may be growing
towards it. We ought to think more, not only
of how the Lord Jesus died for us, but also of
how He lived for us—so gentle, and patient,
and holy, and it would help to make us so too.â€
“But we can’t do all the things He did,
Meg.â€
“No; but what we must do is, to try and
do what we each have to do in the same
way as He would have done it. Don’t you
remember our text last Sunday, ‘Christ
pleased not Azmself’ ? and if we could always
think of that—if we could put what we like,
and wish, quite away, and think only of others,
would not that be the beginning of being like
Him? Ifwe learn to give up our own way
- about little things that don’t much matter, it
will help us; it will make us stronger to give
up things that do matter.â€
“But does it matter grumbling about such
a little thing as waiting for the snowdrops?â€
asked Charlie; but as he asked it he laughed,
and put his arms round her neck, kissing her
and saying, “Meg, whatever should I do with-
“ out you? I couldn’t possibly live away from
you, and I do long for the time to come when
24 The Snowdrops ; or,
I shall be a big man, and able to carry you
out on to the lawn in summer, and read to
you, and do everything for you. Won't it
be nice?â€
“So nice, my Charlie,†she said, stroking
the eager, loving face ; and then, as he nestled
closer to her, she held him fondly, and shut
her eyes, as if to hide the weary, sorrowful
look that had come into them.
The door opened quietly but briskly, and
a kind-looking lady came in.
“How tired you look, Margaret,†she said ;
“you have been talking too much, have you
not?â€
“No, auntie, I think not,†she answered.
“Your tea is coming, and I think Charlie
had better run away now, and let you
rest.â€
But Charlie gave a well-known tug, and
Meg said—
“Please let him stay, auntie; he will be:
very quiet, and I do so love to have him.â€
“Let him stay, then, dear, and I am sure
he will like to hear that I have been to see
the poor little boy who was burnt yesterday.
He is sadly i in pain ; but it is a great comfort
that it is not serious, and he is so patient and -
good; poor little fellow.â€
“How frightened the poor mother must
Life from the Dead. 25
have been,†said Margaret. “I hope she is
well.â€
“Yes, very well, and sent her duty to you,
and wishes to come and see you one day soon.
I said I would let her know when you would
be well enough to see her.â€
“ Thank you, auntie.â€
And then the door opened, and tea was
brought in.
CHAPTER IV
MARGARET AND HER AUNT CONVERSE—DESIRES TO BREAK
THE NEWS TO CHARLIE—MARGARET’S REGRET—THE
SOLDIER’S VERSES.
HE warm curtains were drawn in
Margaret’s cosy room. Wee
Charlie’s bright loving eyes had
long since been fast shut in sleep,
and his sister and their aunt sat
together.
They had been silent for some time when
Margaret said, “ Auntie, do you know, I think
I must tell Charlie.â€
“Tell him what, dear Margaret?†she
asked in a trembling voice.
“There is but one thing that I want him to
know, auntie; you know what it is. I must
let him know that I am going away to the.
other country. We donot know how long or
how soon it may be, and it must not come on
him as a shock.â€
26
Life from the Dead. 27
There was silence for a time, and then
Margaret continued—
“You see, auntie, I am sure it would be
better every way. I do not want him to think
of me as dead,as he must do if it comes to
him suddenly, but to think of me as alive, and
well, and happy—seeing God face to face;
hearing and knowing our Lord as I have
never known Him on earth.â€
“T think you are, perhaps, right, dear ; but
do you feel. worse—weaker ? â€
“No, not to-day, I think; but you see,
I know it is coming, and it will. be better and
easier for us both if we learn to think of it and
speak of it.â€
“You have my free consent to speak of it to
him, my child. If any one can make him see
brightness and happiness in it, it will be you.â€
“Tt has become such a reality to me, auntie.â€
“Sometimes I wonder, Margaret, if you are
not glad to be leaving us.â€
“No, I cannot be glad to say good-bye to
you all,†and the tears swam in her large sweet
eyes; “and it seems so strange to think that
I am really going out of this room, and away
from you; but at the same time, there is a
sort of longing in me, that makes me wish to
go. There will be our father and mother to
meet again; and these last few months I have
28 The Snowdrops ; or,
had such a great longing to see Christ, to be
with Him.â€
“Thine eyes shall see the King in . His
beauty,†repeated her aunt, softly.
“ That is just the one thing that seems grow-
ing so intensely in my heart. I feel as if now
I must go beyond faith, and have the full satis-
faction, sight; see Him as He is: and then
there is all that to think of, which will be such
gain to me—no more suffering, or pain, or
sleeplessness—all full satisfaction; nothing
left to desire; I cannot believe it.â€
“Poor child! yes, it will, it must be a
wonderful relief and release to you.â€
“My one regret is’——and now the gather-
ing tears fell quickly—“my one great regret
is, that mine has been such a life of idleness.
You see, I have never done anything for God.
Before my accident I hardly thought of Him ;
and since I have known Him, it has been
nothing but waiting and suffering.â€
“You remember poor Milton’s comfort—
‘They also serve who only stand and wait’?â€
“Yes, I know it, but it does not comfort
me. If only I could have done some little
thing for Him—but it has only been always
taking what He gave.â€
“But is it not best to be satisfied with what
AUNTIE READING TO MARGARET.—Lage 31.
a
Life from the Dead. 31
He sends, rather than to wish for something
of our own? Don’t you remember what
David said when God had loaded him with
mercies? ‘ What shall I render unto the Lord?
I will take the cup of salvation. The most
and the best that any of us can do is to take
gratefully what our God sends us. Do you
know, I found a hymn ina book to-day that
I thought you would like, that would suit you.
Let me read it to you, and then I must call
nurse, and get you to bed, for you look very
tired and weary, my child.â€
“Thank you, auntie; I shall be glad to hear
it. â€
“I don’t know who wrote it, but it was
found under the pillow of a poor soldier, as he
lay dead in a hospital in South Carolina, after
the war. It seems to me he must have learnt—
and in the learning found the comfort and
peace of leaving himself, and clinging to his
Father.†And then she read—
“*T lay me down to sleep,
With little thought or care
Whether my waking find
Me here or there.
‘A bowing, burdened head,
That only asks to rest,
Unquestioning, upon
A loving breast.
32 The Snowdrops 3 or, Life from the Dead.
‘My good right hand forgets
Its cunning now ;
To march the weary march
I know not how.
‘Tam not eager, bold,
Nor strong—all that is past :
I am ready not to do
At last, at last.
‘My half-day’s work is done,
And this is all my part ;
I give a patient God
My patient heart ;
‘And grasp his banner still,
Though all its blue be dim;
These stripes, no less than stars,
Lead after Him.’
“There, my dearest child, let that rest you
to-night ; and though your life seems small
and idle to you, it is not so in our sight; and
I believe, I am sure, it is not so in God’s sight.
Some have stars to lead them with shining
rays, and to some our loving Father gives
stripes to bear and to carry. And who
knoweth which is best, since both come from
Love?â€
CHAPTER V.
TATTLE DROP AND SNOWY TALK—THE WAY TO LIGHT AND
BEAUTY—LONGING TO SEE THE GARDENER.
One
‘ ND how did the little snowdrop
bulbs get on? The earth was as
dark as ever; no light penetrated
underground. All was silent, save
for the busy little workers.
“Little Drop,†said Snowy one
day, “are you not tired and weary?â€
“Yes, very tired to-night, Snowy.â€
“Oh, how I wish we could get into the
gardener’s beautiful garden without all this
troublesome part! If he isso great and good, .
why cannot he make us pure and white at
once, instead of letting us be in all this dark-
ness and discomfort ?â€
“T don’t know, Snowy; and yet I have a
fancy about it.â€
“What is it?â€
33 Ce
34 The Snowdrops ; or,
“Why, I fancy he would not have so much
pleasure in us if he just made us as we are to
be. You see, he puts us here, and now he is
letting us have a share in his work; and it
comforts me to think that he loves his flowers
enough to let them have a part of his own joy,
and work with him to make his garden
beautiful. Beside that, Snowy, we are so
dark and small, so foolish and ignorant, that
it may be it is we who will not let him make
us beautiful at once. If all were well,
perhaps we should not care to think of him
or his garden, and then how much we should ©
miss!â€
“But do all plants and flowers have to be
put down into the ground like this?â€
“JT don’t know, Snowy; but I am sure all
must have something to bear. Think of the
great trees who always stand up against the
wind and rain, and the blossoms that have to
fall off before the fruit comes; but you see it
is all for some use—all for some good. We
do not know about the others, but for
ourselves we know this dark earth is the
way that will bring us to light and beauty.
The gardener put us in, and the reason he
put us in was, not for us to lose ourselves,
but to grow fit for his garden. It is nice to
think of.â€
Life from the Dead. 35
“Very nice,†answered Snowy, softly.
“I wonder why he loved us?â€
“TI suppose because we are his,†said Little
Drop.
“But we were very brown and ugly when he
picked us up from the ground; there was
nothing to make him love us.â€
“No, indeed ; I wonder why it was.â€
“It must be because he is so good and
kind.â€
* “And then he knew how white and _ beauti-
- ful we could become, and so he would not let
us miss it, even though it is through such a
dark, comfortless path.†;
“Do you know, Little Drop, sometimes
I can’t help wondering if we ever shall get to
the garden ; the earth is so strong. Suppose
the eardener put us in too deep?â€
“But he could not; he would not do
that. Though it is so dark to us, it belongs
to him, and he must know better than
we can how much we want. But, like
you, Snowy, I do long to get to the
’ garden.â€
“ And see the gardener?â€
“Yes, and see the gardener. I wonder,
when he comes’and looks at his flowers, if he
will know that we are the very same two bulbs
he planted?†said Little Drop.
36 The Snowdrops ; or, Life from the Dead.
“T think he will,†answered Snowy; “for
he not only held us in his hand, but he saw
just where he put us; and so, I think, we must
be quite safe and right.â€
CHAPTER VI.
CHARLIE’S HAPPY DAYS—HIS EARNEST LONGING—RALPH
BRINGS FLOWERS TO MARGARET—THE CONVERSATION
ABOUT THEM—THE INVITATION TO MARY.
HE days passed quickly to the
bright, merry Charlie. . They
seemed just full of gladness and
joy. °
The morning lessons with his
aunt were quickly over, and then
came long delightful rambles, or a play in the
_garden with the dog, or a ride’on his pony ;
and mixing up with all were the visits to
Margaret’s room.
He liked to tell her all—everything about
everything—what he had seen, heard, done,
thought; and it was only after such talks
that hé really felt as if life was complete.
And Margaret was so loving and gentle, she
listened so well, and cared so much about every
one and everything, that though he ran about
alone, he never felt as if he wanted a com-
panion, for all his joys and troubles found a
37
38 The Snowdrops ; or,
place by that low sofa which could be filled
by no other. And the strong love that was
so patient in pain and suffering, so unselfish
and full of sympathy, taught him uncon-
sciously lessons that otherwise he would
have been years in learning.
It became so natural to think for others
when he was always thinking and caring for
one—so impossible to be impatient, and cross,
and angry when before him were such sweet,
patient eyes, such a thin, suffering body.
It made him long to be noble and strong,
to protect and care for her—to be always
truthful and good, that he might never fear to -
meet her open questioning gaze—to love God:
and the Lord Jesus Christ, for there she found
her. strength and comfort—to pray to the
Holy Spirit for “a clean heart and a right
spirit,†for hers shone so whitely and purely
that he felt every spot and stain on his own,
and trembled if it could not reflect brightly
and give back her rays.
And thus she shed her light on all that
came near ; and yet not her light, but “ Christ
in her, the hope of glory ;†and the light, and
love, and truth so mingled that they were a
beacon to all, a steady light that drew, and
comforted and encouraged, and spoke of
better things to come.
iv i
es
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il kK I;
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. oe we
ee
ne @ Uy.
RALPH BRINGING PLANTS TO MARGARET. — Page 41
Life from. the Dead. 4
Perhaps one of old Ralph’s happiest
moments in the week, if not the happiest of
all, was the day he came to bring his young
mistress fresh plants and flowers,
“JT am quite ready for them, Ralph,†she
would say, cheerily ; “how fresh and bright
they look! Those poor things going away
are getting very faded.â€
“Very faded, miss; it is a pity they go off
so soon.â€
“ Such a pity, Ralph; but they are coming
back to beauty again.â€
“Yes, miss, and they will be rarer than ever
by-and- by. 2
Me That is what we shall all be in the other
kingdom that is preparing for us, only we
shall be better off than the poor flowers, for
we shall come to life, never to fade or die
again.â€
ol sometimes think you must fone for the
time, miss,†said old Ralph; “it is hard for
one so young to lie day after day as you do.â€
“Tt used to be very hard, Ralph, but I think
it is growing easier now. Perhaps it is that
rest and release are coming.â€
Poor Ralph could not speak. To him, the
great strong man, it seemed inexpressibly sad
to see such a fair young life slipping away ; a
tender feeling came welling up in his heart,
42 The Snowdrops ; or, Life from the Dead.
and he busied himself with the flowers. At
last he said—
“There be those who will miss you terribly
sadly, miss, and we shall, every one of us,
want you often and often.â€
“Thank you, Ralph,†she said; and then
with a bright smile, “ But you will not grudge
me my happiness? and it is such happiness.
I think the pain of parting is slipping away,
and getting swallowed up in the joy of being
with Christ, ‘which is far better’ I hope that
some day, when it is not too cold, your
daughter will come and see me again. I know
Mary has a great deal of suffering to bear,
and it comforts me to see her and talk to her.
She knows so well where to find relief and -
patience, and when I see her trusting so
simply and naturally to God’s promises, and
best of all to Himself, it strengthens me more
than anything else,â€
“She will be right glad to come and see’
you, Miss Margaret. It is what she often
longs for, and she shall come up whenever
you are able to see her; I wish for it.â€
“Thank you, Ralph. Good-bye this after-
noon ;†and the man went off with many a
thought in his mind, and many a prayer in his
heart.
CHAPTER VII.
HAPPY SUNDAY—‘“‘THE HAREBELL AND THE CHILDâ€â€™â€”
MEG TELLS OF HER GOING AWAY—CHARLIE’S GRIEF—
NOT .LOST—GOD A LOVING FATHER.
a5
BRIGHT, cold, sunshiny afternoon
was drawing in, and Margaret and
Al, wee Charlie sat together.
Key “Meg, I think Sunday is a very
oh nice day,†said Charlie “It is
always happier and nicer than
other days, and the trees and fields all look as
if they knew it were Sunday, and so put on
their Sunday dresses.â€
“Yes,†answered Margaret, “it always
seems as if they had a lovely look, that is
. different on Sundays to other days—all is so
quiet, and peaceful, and holy, as if trouble and
strife were laid aside, and rest had come.
Have you not got a hymn for me to-day,
darling? It is so long since you said one to
me. Will you say the one about the hare-
bell ?—‘ The Harebel! and the Child’?â€
43
44 The Snowdrops ; or,
And Charlie repeated—
“* Tittle harebell, fragile flower,
Thou art passing fair;
Wherefore is thy dwelling-place
On the mountain bare?
‘It is hard to live alone,
By the world unseen,
Thou so very beautiful,
Fit to be a queen !
‘Autumn winds are bleak and cold,
Autumn skies are dreary ;
Summer days would suit thee best--
Sunny skies and cheery.
‘Thou art not of sturdy growth,
Like the purple heather :
How canst thou, poor flower, endure
Stormy wind and weather?’
‘T am happy, little child,
On the mountain drear :
God has given each his place—
He has placed me here. :
‘And though far from human ken,
I am never lonely :
Think not that we live and bloom
For man’s pleasure only.
“When the storm is fierce and loud,
God provideth for me;
I but bow my little head
Till it passes o’er me.
Life from the Dead. 45
‘Rest in thy Creator, child,
In the hour of sorrow:
He has cared for thee to-day ;
Trust Him for the morrow.’
ae .
ey “Tsn’t it a dear little harebell, Meg, living
* up on the mountain all alone, and yet being
so good and happy?â€
“Tt is a dear little harebell, wee Charlie.
But, do you know, I think it must have been
very happy on the mountain! Think how it
must have enjoyed the fresh breezes and
winds, and the bright sunshine, which would
never be too hot, for there is always air on
the hills. And then at night the moon and
stars would look down on it softly and lovingly,
and make it happy. I think I should like to
have been the harebell.â€
“Because of living up so high? Well
‘T don’t think I should like it.â€
“Think how far the little child had to climb
before he got to the harebell. I daresay it
could look right away, and see the place where
the child lived. Perhaps it was a little white
village, shut in by green trees, but so low
down and far off, the child could not see the
flower. In the village the air would often
be hot and stifling, and the clouds would
sometimes cover it up, when the mountain
46 Ihe Snowdrops ; or,
would be lifting its head clear and meh
into the air and sunshine.â€
“TI wonder if the child liked climbing up so
high. It must have been a long way to go.â€
aN very long way; and perhaps he would
never have gone at all if he had not known
that such lovely flowers would be growing at
the top.â€
“T am so glad I don’t have to climb a long
way to see you, Meg; you are so nice and
handy for me’
“If I were a long way off up at the top
of a mountain, like the little harebell, would
you climb up to see me, wee Charlie?â€
“Meg,†he exclaimed, “of course I would! |
How can you ask? I should climb up every
day to see.you.†..
“But suppose it was such a long way off
that it would take you years before you got
to the top?â€
“T should still come, Meg. I should never,
never get tired. Butâ€â€”and his face changed
quickly—“ you are not going away? Do
they say you will get better if you go away?â€
“Yes, darling; at least, I think so.â€
“Oh, but, Meg, Meg, take me, take me,
too! Oh, I can’t stay away from you!â€
And wee Charlie clung to her as if he feared
to lose her then and there.
Life from the Dead. 47
“My wee Charlie, my pet,†said Margaret,
stroking his hair softly. And by-and-by she
went on—
“Darling, I want you so much to think
about it. Don’t you want your Meg to be
~ well again?â€
“Oh yes, so much, but not to go away
without me!â€
-“You see, I have so much suffering and
_ pain—hardly any nice sleeping, restful nights.
I can never walk—hardly ever go out of
doors ; and I do so long to be well.â€
“ And if you go to this place, will it make
you quite well?â€
“Quite well—so well that I shall never have
any more pain—never lie any more on this
weary couch—never have to be all day with
my eyes shut, and the room dark; but be
always well, and always happy; only it is a
place, my Charlie, where I cannot take you.
I must leave you behind.â€
“Oh, Meg, Meg, then it’s heaven, and
that means you are going to die. Oh, you
mustn't go away! I shall never see you
again.â€
They neither of them spoke for a long
time: poor little Charlie sobbing as if his
heart would break, and Margaret comforting
him and soothing him. :
48 Lhe Snowdrops ; or,
At last she said, “But you will climb, my
Charlie ?â€
Oh, no, no, I can’t climb without you.
There would be no one to tell me the way.â€
“Yes, darling, there is One who will show
you, far better than I can—the same who has
shown me, Charlie ; and then it will be so
good for me.â€
“So good ?’
“Yes, so good ; don’t you remember, when
you planted your ‘snowdrops, a little while ago,
they were nothing but little brown round
balls ?â€
“I thought them such dear, Pretty little
things.â€
“Yes, but think of the time When they
will come—beautiful and white. Can you
not spare your Meg, Charlie, that by-and-by
you may have her back again pure, and white,
and holy? Nota poor, ill, bad: thing as now,
but changed all to good—changed into Christ’s
image?â€
“T should like you to be all that—but—
“Well?â€
“Do you think you will have to go soon?â€
“T don’t know, darling. It may be a
month or two, or it may be sooner, I cannot
tell, and I did so want us to be able to talk
about it. Is it not better to know it is coming
Life from the Dead. 49
than to have it fall suddenly upon you? And
then, you know, we are not lost to each other.
Not lost—only apart for a time, to be together
for always.
“ But how shall I do without you?â€
“Do without me, darling? I know it will be
hard and strange; but what does your dear
little harebell tell you ?
‘Trust in thy Creator, child,
In the hour of sorrow.’ â€
“But, Meg, could He not make you quite
well on the earth, and let you stay with
me?â€
“ Yes, He could do it, but it does not please
Him to do it. He could have given me a life
of health, and kept away my accident, and
this long, long weary illness ; but He has not
done it. We cannot tell why ; but there is
one thing that we must learn, and the sooner
we learn it the better it will be for us—that
we cannot understand all God’s ways. Some
things He makes plain to us; but with many
things we can never see why they are.â€
“ But what can we do then?â€
“Just ¢vust Him, and we shall only be able
to trust when we know Azm, not know
something or many things even about Him,
_ but know Him Himself as our loving, tender
“Dp
50 The Snowdrops ; or,
Father. When we know this, we pass out of
the region of fear, straight into the sunshine
of a Father’s love.â€
“But how do you know Him like that?â€
“Well, I think it is like this. God always
loved us ; yet we were so foolish and ignorant,
we did not know it, but just thought Him an
angry, wrathful God, when all the time He
was full of love and pity tous. Soas we could
not know it of ourselves, He took the most
precious thing He had—His beloved Son, our
Lord Jesus, and sent Him, out of His great,
tender love, to teach us what He was, to take
our sins upon Him, and to lead us back to the
Father, who was waiting like the father we
read of in St. Luke, with longing eyes -and -
outstretched arms to receive us.â€
“Then as he loves us so much, He never
will do anything unkind ?â€
“ No, never, never. All He does is to make
us more good and holy, more like the holy
Saviour; and remember, Charlie, all your
life, that in spite of all that may seem wrong,
and unkind, or hard, God zs a loving Father,
and He cannot be different to what we know
Him to be—all love and goodness.â€
“ But, Meg, how caz I be glad to lose you?â€
“You can’t be glad, my Charlie, and our
Father does not want you to be glad. He
Life from the Dead. 51
knows He is sending us a very great sorrow
in calling us apart, and I believe He grieves
for us; and since He grieves, we shall be able
to tell Him all about our trouble, for he will
understand it better than any one else, and
He will love us as no one else can love.â€
. “Meg, I wonder why He does it?â€
“So do I, Charlie. I cannot see; but then
it is our Father who is doing it, and though
we can’t see, we can bear what comes from
Him.â€
“You look so white and tired, my Meg,â€
said Charlie, lifting up his face for the first
time ; “don’t talk any more.â€
“JT think I must not, my darling; but I
am so glad all is free between us; and now,
perhaps, nurse had better come. Good-bye,
- my wee Charlié, good-bye.â€
CHAPTER VIIL
CHARUIE BEGINS TO REALISE THE TRUTH—ANOTHER VISIT
TO MARGARET—THE GOOD SHEPHERD AND THE WANDER-
ING SHEEP.
- a %Ro
iy dl HE last talk seemed to open a new
life to Charlie. It was very strange
to run about just as usual, to play
and ride, and to feel that really and
truly Margaret was slipping away -
from him.
For the most part he did not realise it ; but
gradually, as they talked of it more and more,
‘it seemed to come as a natural thing that she
was going away for a time—going up into a
beautiful high mountain, away from the dust,
and hurry, and pain, and trouble of the
valley—up to this other land; and he, wee
Charlie, would hold his Father’s hand, and
climb to meet her and Him.
Would it be a long climb? Would it be.
difficult and hard? Would he get bruised:
and wounded? He did not think of that, but
52
Life from the Dead. 53
only that the same loving Father who took Meg
into the beautiful land would hold his hand,
and lead him there also. He could not see
the way, nor what was coming, but he could
grasp his Father’s hand; and the childlike
trust that trusted so lovingly and confidently,
not what the Father would do, but what He
was, surely that is the trust, whether in big,
strong men, or in little children, that is likest
to His whose meat and drink was to do the
Father’s will.
Christmas had passed, bright and happy,
but with that tender, lingering glow which
speaks silently of things to come.
Charlie was wandering down the garden
one day, when his eye fell on his flower bank,
and brought his snowdrops to his remem-
brance.
“Oh, my dear little snowdrops,†he cried,
“you will never never come up in time, and
I shall never be able to give you to her!â€
And the poor little choking sobs came thick
and fast.
“Perhaps she will be white and beautiful
before you are,†he thought; and then he
began to wonder what she would be like—
her pale face, without its look of pain—her
eyes, such rare, sweet eyes, never tired and
weary. And so he wondered, till he found
54 ’ The Snowdrops ; or,
himself at her door, turning the handle, and
peeping in.
It was long since he had had more than a kiss
from her, for she had been too weak and ill to
talk; but now she was better, and smiling
with j joy to have him.
After a bit, they turned at once to the sub-
ject that was so full of pain and interest to
them both.
“There is another thing, Charlie,†Margaret
said, “that the little harebell says, that I have
been thinking of these last days. It is so ©
strange the different places that we all have,
and so good to think that ‘God has gzven
each his place.’â€
“Yes, Meg, let’s think what every one’s
place is—auntie’s is to take care of us, and
Mr. Leslie to be clergyman, and take care of
every one, and come and see you; and-
Ralph’s to be a gardener; and Mary to take
care of his house, and have bad headaches ;
and yours to be ill; and mine to run about
and do lessons. I wonder why we’ve each
got a different place?â€
“T, think it must be because it will best fit
us for the place God is making ready for us
in heaven.â€
“But I wonder why some have short lives
and some long lives?â€
Life from the Dead. 55
“T suppose that somehow it is for the same
reason. You see our paths in life are not an
accident, but made ready by our Father.â€
“But suppose we were to get out of those
paths, and lose our way?â€
“Still God. would not lose us. Don’t
you remember that one poor sheep which
wandered away, and how the Shepherd left
everything, and never gave up till He found
iteâ€
“But we could not get back into the right
path again, perhaps? â€.
“No, I am sure not; when we leave the
right path, we never can get back into it
again of ourselves ; but, don’t you remember,
the Shepherd found the sheep, and then He
carried it all the way back Himself? Yes,
Charlie, however far we may go away, the
_ thing to do will be, not to seek the path
again, for we shall be sure to miss it, but to
seek Him, and we shall find both. He never
leaves us, and when we turn to Him we find
His arms are waiting wide open to receive
us. â€
“That must make us very sorry to have
gone away.â€
“Very, very sorry, for the more we see of
His love, the more we want to be always
pleasing Him.â€
56 The Snowdrops ; or, Life from the Dead. ,
Then she lay very still for a time. She
could not talk much now, only lie still and be
patient—waiting—waiting till the pearly gates
of the golden city should be opened.
CHAPTER IX.
A FEBRUARY MORNING—SNOWY COMES TO THE SURFACE—
HER GRATITUDE—THE GARDENER’S VISIT—CHARLIE
GATHERS SNOWY—GIVES HER TO MARGARET—MEG
ENTERS HEAVEN—LITTLE DROP APPEARS—PLACED IN
CHARLIE’S BIBLE,
c*RRO
j HE early bright February sun was
shining warmly, as if to encourage
all the tender things hidden in the
earth to come up.
The little snowdrops were get-
ting very tired of their long time
in darkness. Little Drop was not so strong
as Snowy, and was more backward than she
was. .
Snowy had long since left off wondering
why she had been put down into the earth.
Every day she found out more and more that
she was being made ready for a beautiful life
to come, and she longed for the time when
she would find herself in the garden, and see
the good kind gardener.
57
58 The S nowdarops ; or,
Yes, she was tired of working, tired of
waiting ; but she knew she was coming to
such good, that it gave her patience.
What would she be like? White and pure.
Yet she could not imagine how a little brown
thing should become like that.
Where would she be? In a lovely garden,
with other flowers growing around her—with
warmth, breezes, and best of all, “ght. It was
very strange. All had been so dark and hard ;
all was to be light and pleasure. She could
not tell how this was possible, so she waited
in patience, working harder and more dili-
gently than ever. It was a long time to wait ;
would she ever really reach the garden ?
A few days more. And surely the earth
was not so heavy: surely there was a strange
ray she had never seen before. One more
trial, one more little push; the dark earth
rolled away, and light had come to Snowy.
She could not understand it. She only felt
the sun’s delicious warmth, its soft, beaming
light, the breezes that rocked to and fro.
A sprinkling of snow covered the earth, the
remains of last night’s frost. It was too
wonderful, too lovely, too beautiful. And
then she found that, white and pure as the
snow was, she was whiter and purer still.
It was too much; she could not look up, but
Life from the Dead. 59
bent her head, and stood there in the garden,
a lovely, perfect white bell.
Gratitude such as she had never dreamed
of welled up and through her. Was she
indeed the brown bulb planted so long ago?
Yes, the very.same; and yet how changed,
how beautiful !
And would she see the gardener ?
Tramp, tramp, tramp, down the path came
a heavy step, and there was Ralph, his hoe
over his shoulder, coming straight to where
Snowy was.
His eye fell carelessly here and there, and
at last it lighted on the little snowdrop.. He
stopped when he came to it. Bringing his
hoe down to the ground with a thud, and
leaning on it, he exclaimed—
“Poor wee thing! poor wee thing! And
you've come up after all. Ah, just in time,
just in time!†and he drew his hand across
his eyes. “She'll be as bonnie as you are
. before Jong. Well I must let Master Charlie
know.â€
And that afternoon, just as it was getting
dark, came a patter of little feet down the
broad walk, and through the nut-tree avenue,
and wee Charlie knelt down by little Snowy.
“Oh, my dear little flower,†he said, “so
you've come up after all. Oh how good and
60 . ’ The Snowdrops ; or,
dear of you. I can still give you to my Meg,â€
and then very carefully he gathered the little
white blossom and carried it in-doors, up the
long stairs, and into the sick-room.
The fire burnt as brightly as ever, and
Margaret lay in bed, white and thin. They
had drawn back the cuutains to let her look
out on the beautiful clear skies, and there she
‘lay, patiently, patiently waiting. Charlie
climbed to his own corner of the bed—close
to Meg, who could not bear to have him away
from her, and a happy smile was in his face,
as he looked in hers, and put the lovely flower
in her hand.
“My Charlie—my wee Charlie,†she said,
and her sweet eyes told him how she cared
for it.
By-and-by she looked up at the sky, and
then back to Charlie, and then murmured her
- old hymn—"
“ Make thou my spirit white and pure,
As are the frosty skies,
Or this first snowdrop of the year,
That in my bosom lies.â€
And that night the bright angels came down,
and carried Meg to the fair country. The
pearly gates rolled back to let her enter, and
CHARLIE’S PRESENT OF SNOWY.—JLage 60.
Life from the Dead. 63
the beautiful light shone gladly to welcome
the pure white child to her Father’s home.
One day wee Charlie wandered down to
the garden, till he came to his own bank, and
there he saw the other snowdrop—Little
Drop—come up at last.
The sight was too much, when he remem-
bered how gladly he had planted them, and
he threw himself on the ground, and sobbed
and cried.
Then he began to wonder if Meg could see
him. He was sure she would’ never forget
him. Then he began to think how she had
told him that God would be sorry for him,
and he lay thinking of that till comfort stole
into his heart. Then he got up and gathered
the little white snowdrop, and carried it in-
doors, and took down his Bible, the one that
had been Meg’s, to put it inside.
Where should he put it? He could not
think at first. Then at last he remembered
such a dear verse—“ Suffer little children to
come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of
such is the kingdom of heaven.†That was
the very place for it, for he was a little child,
and knew he needed God now, and Margaret
had told him that he would want God all hisâ€
life ; and that whatever failed, the love of his
Father would always be with him.
64 The Snowdrops ; or, Life from the Dead.
And perhaps wee Charlie’s greatest comfort
and help came from looking at the little snow-
drop that lay beside those dear words ; for
the one told him how lovely and bright his
Margaret was, and the other of the love which
would guide and keep him all his life.
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