Part 13 (1/2)

But she pushed ahead.

”Oh,” said Gladys, ”how hard she works! I could never do that. I am sorry for her.”

”You needn't be,” said the fairy. ”You need never be sorry for those that sacrifice for an ideal. Be sorry for those who have none and so who live at ease.” And they watched her struggle through temptation and toil to the graduation day.

As the college days pa.s.sed, there came strength of purpose, but there came also the desire to serve. Gladys watched her lead the little group of dirty street boys in the slums.

”How can she do it?” said Gladys. ”They are so dirty and so rough.”

But the fairy said, ”When one wants to serve, she looks at the heart and the life--not at the clothes and the actions. The boys are helping her to keep in the way.”

And after college there were happy days. Days of love and comrades.h.i.+p, days of work for the fairy; days when opportunity was everywhere. And in these days of happiness there came lessons of sharing, of winning, of filling the life with suns.h.i.+ne. The path was so bright that it dazzled.

Suddenly, Gladys looked ahead in the path. ”Look,” she said to the fairy.

”Look, oh, how black it is! Oh, I am sorry.”

Then the storm descended and all was black in the way--oh, so black and to move took all of one's strength. Against it she struggled, but it seemed as though she must surely be driven from the path. Death and loneliness and worries seemed overpowering.

But the storm pa.s.sed and, when once again there was peace, a great strength had come in its place, for there was sympathy for others who suffered, there was an appreciation of the value of friends.h.i.+p, and there was a knowledge that G.o.d helps.

Little by little the road widened, though often it was lonely and hard.

There were many steep places but each added something. And then Gladys saw the picture change.

There was Mrs. Fuller with her girls and she was leading them by the hand.

But it was by no means easy. Some held back; some chose to play by the way; some looked longingly at the things by the wayside that would harm.

But her one hand reached up and her other hand helped them ahead as she tried to keep them in the way.

As the picture faded, Gladys turned to the fairy. ”I thought it had been all suns.h.i.+ne but now I see how hard it has been to learn to understand and to help. I love her better than I did before, now that I have seen her in the way. Thank you, fairy.”

”But wait,” said the fairy. ”You asked me for a gift. Do you still want it? Do you still want to follow her?”

”To follow means study, and sacrifice, and temptations conquered, and sympathy, and all sorts of hard things, doesn't it? I never thought about it. But I love Mrs. Fuller and I still want to lead girls--I still want the letters and I still want to be like her. Please, Fairy of Good Works, put me in the way and I will go back to school and begin to get ready.”

Then the little lady smiled as she waved her wand over the head of the girl. ”Your life may be much more sunny than hers, dear. Not all must have the same things to overcome. But whatever you meet in the way, you must struggle against it and come out stronger because you have struggled. Can you see away off there in the distance the hands of girls--oh, so many of them--eagerly reached out for help? They are 'your girls.' And here is the way. Above there is one who helps and I am here though you may not see me. Push forward or the girls will have no helper. Good-by and good luck to you.”

But as Gladys reached out to detain her, her hat fell to the ground and she found herself sitting against the tree. In her hand was the picture of Mrs. Fuller and her girls. Long she looked at the picture. Then she said to herself,

”I never knew the way was so long or so hard to be like you but if just one girl can love me some day as I love you, then I shall be glad I have walked in the way. I am ready to try and I hope I can win.”

AN OLD, OLD STORY

It was a dark and rainy day when about the inn-fire, close to the great caravan way that led through Canaan, in the land of Palestine, a group of camel-drivers and travelers were gathered. They looked very different from what they do to-day, for nearly four thousand years have pa.s.sed since then. But they were all huddled together listening to stories and songs.

In the group there were men from Egypt; there were men from Babylon, the great city far to the East; there were men from the land of Canaan; and then there were some wandering nomads who had lately come from the East and so were called by the Canaanites ”Hebrews,” which means, ”People from the Other Side.” Most of these men were shepherds, but they loved to meet with the camel-drivers and learn of the customs and habits of the people of other lands. 'Twas a strange group of men sitting about the little fire.

In those days, as now, men loved to tell stories that had come down to them from their fathers and grandfathers, and often they found that a story from Egypt was but little different from one that had been told in Babylonia. So they loved to listen to the story-tellers.