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Page 11
In a moment he was beside her, and then he knew. There he lay,--their
little son. The angel's gift,--a wee cripple. Not a bone in all his
little body was straight and firm. Only his eyes were strangely
beautiful, and now they were filled with tears.
"It were better he had died, and thou, also, Christina," sobbed Hans.
"It were better we had all three died before this sorrow was brought
upon us." But Christina only wept.
So the years went by, and the baby lived and grew. It was always in
pain, but it seldom cried; and Christina could not be impatient when
she saw how uncomplaining the little child was.
When he was old enough she told him what she never told any one
before,--the story of the angel; and his eyes were more beautiful than
ever when she wept because she could not suffer it all alone, but must
see him suffer too. And while Hans scarcely noticed the boy, Christina
spent all her time thinking of him and teaching him, and together they
prayed to the white angel to bless them.
But as the years went on many men came to the forest and felled the
trees, not with axes but with huge saws; and so Hans was turned away,
for no one wanted a wood-chopper now. And so they were in great
trouble; and Hans grew rough and ill-tempered, and did not try to use
the saw, nor would he ask the men to let him work. He would only stand
idly by, and often Christina thought the blessings she prayed for were
turned to curses; but she never told the child her sorrow, and still
they prayed on to the white angel to bless them. When Christina saw
Hans would really do no work, she said no more, but sewed and spun for
the men about who had no wives, and in this way she earned enough to
buy food and wood. It was very little she could earn, and she often
grew impatient at the sight of Hans smoking idly in the doorway; but
when she said a hasty word the boy's eyes seemed to grow big with a
deep trouble, and she would check herself and work on in silence. But
the more she worked, the idler grew Hans and the more ill-tempered; and
he would laugh when he heard them pray to the angel to bless them.
Instead of blessings new sorrow seemed to be born every day; for Hans
was injured by a falling tree, and was brought home with both his legs
crushed, and laid helpless and moaning on the rough bed.
These were weary days for Christina; but she did not rebel, even when
Hans swore at her and the child, and made the place hideous with his
oaths.
"You brought us all these troubles, you wretched boy!" he would say.
"Don't talk to _me_ of patience. Why don't you pray to your angel for
curses, and then we may have some good luck again? As it is, you might
as well pray to the Devil himself."
But the child only drew Christina's head closer to his poor little
misshapen breast, and whispered to her, "It is not so, is it, little
mother?"
And she always answered: "No, dear heart. They are indeed blessings if
we will only recognize them. It we prayed only for happiness, we might
think the white angel heard us not; but we pray for blessings, and so
he sends us what we pray for, and what he sends is best."
Then again the boy's eyes shone with a great light, and there seemed a
radiance about his head; but Christina was kissing his shapeless little
hands and did not see.
One day Christina was returning with a fresh bundle of work in her
arms, when, just as she came in sight of the hut, she saw a pillar of
smoke rise black and awful to the sky from the rude roof of the place.
In a moment she felt a horrible fear for Hans and the child. Neither
of them could move; and must they lie helpless and forsaken in the face
of such a fearful death? She ran as though her feet were winged.
Nearer and nearer she came, and now she saw the flames rise and lick
the smoky column with great lapping tongues of fire.
Nearer and nearer she came, and the crowd of men about the hut stood
stricken and dared not venture in.
"It is of no use," they screamed. "We did not know soon enough, and
now it is too late; we should smother if we tried to save them."
But she tore her way through the crowd and flung herself into the
burning place.
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