Anecdote For parents And Children

LITTLE Mary once struck her brother during

my absence from the house. The stick in her

hand had a sharp knot which went clear through

his cheek, making an ugly gash. The blood

flowed in a stream; the boy screamed piteously,

and Mary was exceedingly alarmed. She had

no animosity against her little playmate; on the

contrary, she loved him dearly, and when her

mother, who was called to the room by his

screams, came in, her little daughter had thrown

her arms around his neck, and was joining her

cries to his, while the red blood poured full in

her face. When the mother had made inquiries,

she took the boy away to dress the wound, and

the girl went up stairs without a word and crept

under the bed. There she sat and sobbed for

several hours. Her mother, discovering where

she had gone, said not a word to her, believing

that it was best to leave her for the present alone.

Her own heart was much pained to hear her

dear child's grief, but she was willing to let her

suffer for awhile in hopes that it might be made

a lasting lesson to her.

I came in a little while before night, and

learned how matters stood. It was a season to

me of great interest and responsibility. Upon

my own action here might depend the future

conduct of this child. Her violent temper had

been often checked by punishment, and she had

been frequently enough told of its evil consequences.

Now it had led her to a great crime,

and if not at once restrained, my little daughter

might grow up wicked and miserable.

I considered awhile how I should act, and having

humbly asked guidance of the Father of all,

I took my seat in the room where the affair had

happened, and took the knotty stick in my hand.

Then I called out in a kind voice "Sister, come

here to pa." She was always an obedient girl,

and she instantly crept out and came down to

me. Never shall I forget the expression of her

countenance as she looked in my face. She had

wept until her eyes were greatly inflamed, but

they were dry, and in her face was a look of the

most profound humility and grief that I ever

saw. She walked slowly to my side and bowed

her head upon my knees. I said, "My daughter,

some naughty person has hurt your little brother

very much. His cheek is cut open, and I think

there will always be a scar there as long as he

lives. Will my daughter tell me who did it?"

I heard a little sob, and then she whispered, "It

was me." I continued, "If the stick had struck

his eye, he would have been blind." 

She commenced weeping. 

I said, "If it had struck his

temple, it might have killed him." She gave a

low scream and said, "0 pa!" I continued,

Yes: the blow you struck would have killed

your brother if some one had not turned it aside.

There was some one in the room who saw how

angry my daughter was. Do you know who it

was?" She looked up in my face with a look of

almost happiness, and said, "It was God, pa."

She wept now more bitterly than before. I

took her hand and led her to the room where her

brother lay asleep. His face was bound up and

it was very pale.

I asked her softly, "Is little brother yet alive?"

She started as if smitten with a horrible thought,

and uttered an ejaculation of grief. This awoke

the boy, who casting his eyes about and seeing

Mary bathed in tears, reached out his arms and

called her. It was electric, and hardened must

have been the heart which could behold this

sweet reconciliation without tears.

That night as we bowed around the sacred altar

of family service, tender hearts were ours, and

the angels who watched to carry our offerings

 upward, saw the tear-drops glittering in the

 firelight, and heard low sobs as we united to ask

 the seal of God's approbation upon this 

reconciliation on earth. 

Banner of Peace.