Speaker 1: The angel. Whenever a good child dies, an angel of
Speaker 1: God comes down from heaven, takes the dead child in
Speaker 1: his arms, spreads out his great white wings, and flies
Speaker 1: with him over all the places which the child had
Speaker 1: loved during his life. Then he gathers a large handful
Speaker 1: of flowers, which he carries up to the Almighty, that
Speaker 1: they may bloom more brightly in heaven than they do
Speaker 1: on earth. And the Almighty presses the flowers to his heart.
Speaker 1: But he kisses the flower that pleases him best, and
Speaker 1: it receives a voice and is able to join the
Speaker 1: song of the chorus of bliss. These words were spoken
Speaker 1: by an angel of God as he carried a dead
Speaker 1: child up to heaven, and the child listened as if
Speaker 1: in a dream. Then they passed over well known spots
Speaker 1: where the little one had often played, and through beautiful
Speaker 1: gardens full of lovely flowers. Which of these shall we
Speaker 1: take with us to Heaven to be transplanted there, asked
Speaker 1: the angel. Close by grew a slender, beautiful rose bush,
Speaker 1: But some wicked hand had broken the stem, and the
Speaker 1: half opened rose buds hung, faded and withered on the
Speaker 1: trailing branches. Poor rose bush, said the child, let us
Speaker 1: take it with us to Heaven, that it may bloom
Speaker 1: above in God's garden. The angel took up the rose bush.
Speaker 1: Then he kissed the child, and the little one half
Speaker 1: opened his eyes. The angel gathered also some beautiful flowers,
Speaker 1: as well as a few humble buttercups and hearts. Ease,
Speaker 1: now we have flowers enough, said the child, But the
Speaker 1: angel only nodded. He did not fly upward to Heaven.
Speaker 1: It was night and quite still in the great town.
Speaker 1: Here they remained, and the angel hovered over a small,
Speaker 1: narrow street, in which lay a large heap of straw,
Speaker 1: ashes and sweepings from the houses of people who had removed.
Speaker 1: There lay fragments of plates, pieces of plaster, rags, old hats,
Speaker 1: and other rubbish not pleasant to see. Amidst all this confusion,
Speaker 1: the angel pointed to the pieces of a broken flower
Speaker 1: pot into a lump of earth which had fallen out
Speaker 1: of it. The earth had been kept from falling to
Speaker 1: pieces by the roots of a withered field flower, which
Speaker 1: had been thrown amongst the rubbish. We will take this
Speaker 1: with us, said the angel. I will tell you why
Speaker 1: as we fly along. And as they flew, the angel
Speaker 1: related the history. Down in that narrow lane, in a
Speaker 1: low cellar lived a poor sick boy. He had been
Speaker 1: afflicted from his childhood, and even in his best days,
Speaker 1: he could just manage to walk up and down the
Speaker 1: room on crutches once or twice, but no more. During
Speaker 1: Sundays in summer, the sunbeams would lie on the floor
Speaker 1: of the cellar for about half an hour. In this spot,
Speaker 1: the poor sick boy would sit, warming himself in the
Speaker 1: sunshine and watching the red blood through his delicate fingers
Speaker 1: as he held them before his face. Then he would
Speaker 1: say he had been out. Yet he knew nothing of
Speaker 1: the green forest in its spring verdure, till a neighbor's
Speaker 1: sun brought him a green bough from a beech tree.
Speaker 1: This he would place over his head and fancy that
Speaker 1: he was in the beech wood while the sun shone
Speaker 1: and the birds caroled gaily. One spring day, the neighbor's
Speaker 1: boy brought him some field flowers, and among them was
Speaker 1: one to which the root still adhered. This he carefully
Speaker 1: planted in a flower pot and placed in a window
Speaker 1: seat near his bed. And the flower had been planted
Speaker 1: by a fortunate hand, for it grew put forth fresh
Speaker 1: shoots and blossomed every year. It became a splendid flower
Speaker 1: garden to the sick boy, and a little treasure upon earth.
Speaker 1: He watered it and cherished it, and took care it
Speaker 1: should have the benefit of every sunbeam that found its
Speaker 1: way into the cellar, from the earliest morning ray to
Speaker 1: the evening sunset. The flower entwined itself even in his
Speaker 1: dreams for him. It bloomed for him, spread its perfume,
Speaker 1: and it gladdened his eyes. And to the flower he
Speaker 1: turned even in death when the Lord called him. He
Speaker 1: has been one year with God. During that time the
Speaker 1: flower has stood in the window, withered and forgotten, till
Speaker 1: at length cast out among the sweepings into the street
Speaker 1: on the day of the lodger's removal. And this poor
Speaker 1: flower withered and faded as it is, we have added
Speaker 1: to our nosegay, because it gave more real joy than
Speaker 1: the most beautiful flower in the garden of a queen.
Speaker 1: But how do you know all this? Asked the child
Speaker 1: whom the angel was carrying to heaven. I know, it,
Speaker 1: said the angel, because I myself was the poor sick
Speaker 1: boy who walked upon crutches. And I know my own flower. Well.
Speaker 1: Then the child opened his eyes and looked into the glorious,
Speaker 1: happy face of the Angel. And at the same moment
Speaker 1: they found themselves in that heavenly home where all is
Speaker 1: happiness and joy. And God pressed the dead child to
Speaker 1: his heart, and wings were given him so that he
Speaker 1: could fly with the Angel hand in hand. Then the
Speaker 1: Almighty pressed all the flowers to his heart, but he
Speaker 1: kissed the withered field flower, and it received a voice.
Speaker 1: Then it joined in the song of the angels who
Speaker 1: surrounded the throne, some near and others in a distant circle,
Speaker 1: but all equally happy. They all joined in the chorus
Speaker 1: of praise, both great and small, the good, happy child
Speaker 1: and the poor field flower that once lay withered and
Speaker 1: cast away on a heap of rubbish in a narrow,
Speaker 1: dark street, And of the Angel