Karl Krinken, His Christmas Stocking

“Mrs. Meadow left Silky to take care of the breakfast things; and, drawing her chair up on the hearth, she took the little boy on her lap and wound her arms about him.

“‘Little Norman,’ said she kindly, ‘you won’t see Long Ears to-day.’

“‘No,’ said Norman, with a sigh, in spite of breakfast and fire,—‘he will have to go without me.’

“‘Isn’t it good that there is one day in the week when the poor little tired pin-boy can rest?’

“‘Yes—it is good,’ said Norman, quietly; but as if he was too accustomed to being tired to take the good of it.

“‘This is God’s day. Do you know who God is, Norman?’

“‘He made me,’ said Norman,—‘and every body.’

“‘Yes, and every thing. He is the great King over all the earth; and he is good, and he has given us this day to rest and to learn to be good and please him. Can you read the Bible, Norman?’

“‘No, I can’t read,’ said Norman. ‘Mother can.’

“‘You know the Bible is God’s book, written to tell us how to be good; and whatever the Bible says we must mind, or God will be angry with us. Now the Bible says, ‘Thou shalt not steal.’ Do you know what that means?’

“Mrs. Meadow spoke very softly.

“‘Yes,’ said Norman, swinging one little foot back and forward in the warm shine of the fire,—‘I’ve heard it.’

“‘What does it mean?’

“‘I know,’ said Norman.

“‘It is to take what does not belong to us. Now, since God has said that, is it quite right for you to take that money of your mother’s to buy milk for Long-Ears?’

“‘It isn’t her money!’ said Norman, his face changing; ‘and Long-Ears can’t starve!’

“‘It is her money, Norman;—all the money you earn belongs to her, or to your father, which is the same thing. You know it does.’

“‘But Curly must have something to eat,’ said Norman, bursting into tears. ‘Oh, don’t tell! oh, don’t tell!—’

“‘Hush, dear,’ said Mrs. Meadow’s kind voice, and her kind hand on his head;—‘I’m not going to tell; but I want you to be a good boy and do what will please God, that you may be one of the lambs of the Good Shepherd’s flock.—Do you know what I am talking about?’

“‘Yes—no—I don’t know about the lambs,’ said Norman.

“‘Do you know who Jesus Christ is?’

“‘No.’

“‘Poor little thing!’ said Silky, and the tears fell from her face as she went from the fire to the table. Norman looked at her, and so did her mother, and then they looked at each other.

“‘Jesus Christ is your best friend, little Norman.’

“‘Is he?’ said Norman, looking.

“‘Do you know what he has done for you, little pin-boy?’

“Norman looked, and no wonder, for Mrs. Meadow’s eyes were running over full, and he did not know what to make of the dropping tears; but he shook his head.

“‘It’s all told about in God’s book, dear. Little Norman Finch, like everybody else, hasn’t loved God, nor minded his commandments as he ought to do; and God would have punished us all, if Jesus Christ hadn’t come down from heaven on purpose to take our punishment on himself, so that we might be saved.’

“‘How would he have punished us?’ said Norman.

“‘He would have sent us away from him, for ever, to be in a miserable place, with devils and bad people, where we should see nothing good nor happy, and we shouldn’t be good nor happy ourselves; it’s a place so dreadful, it is called in the Bible the lake that burns with fire; and he would never let us come into his heaven, where God is, and Jesus Christ is, and the good angels, and all God’s people are, and are all as good and happy as they can be.’

“‘And would I have been punished so?’ said Norman.

“‘Yes,—the Bible says so; and every one will now, who won’t believe and love Jesus Christ.’

“‘And did he go there?’

“‘Where?’

“‘To that place—that bad place—did he go there?’

“‘What, the Lord Jesus?’

“Norman nodded.

“‘Not there,—he is God; and he is called the Son of God; he could not do that; but he did this. He came to this world and was born into this world a little child; and when he grew up to be a man, he died a cruel death for you and me—for you and me, little Norman.’

“‘And then will God not punish me now?’ said Norman.

“‘No, not a bit, if you will love the Lord Jesus and be his child.’

“‘What did he do that for?’ said Norman.

“‘Because he is so good he loved us, and wanted to save us and bring us back to be his children, and to be good and happy.’

“‘Does he love me?’ said Norman.

“‘Yes, indeed,’ said Mrs. Meadow. ‘Do you think he came to die for you and doesn’t love you? If you will love and obey him, he will love you for ever, and take care of you;—better care than any one else can.’

“‘There isn’t anybody else to take care of me,’ said Norman. ‘Mother can’t, and father don’t, much. I wish I knew about that.’

“With a look, of wonder and interest, at her daughter, Mrs. Meadow reached after her Bible, without letting Norman down from her lap; and turning from place to place, read to him the story of Christ’s death, and various parts of his life and teaching. He listened, gravely and constantly and intently, and seemed not to weary of it at all, till she was tired and obliged to stop. He made no remark then, but sat a little while with a sober face; till his own fatigue of days past came over him, and his eyelids drooped, and slipping from Mrs. Meadow’s lap, he laid himself down on the hearth to sleep. They put something under his head and sat watching him, the eyes of both every now and then running over.

“‘How much do you think he understood, mother?’ said Silky.

“‘I don’t know,’ said Mrs. Meadow, shaking her head.

“‘He listened, mother,’ said Silky.

“‘Yes. I won’t say anything more to him to-day. He’s had enough.’