Dreamland by Julie M. Lippmann


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Page 32

"But you should never do that, dear one. If one shuts away one's gifts
and does not let others profit by them, that is ill too. One must make
the best of them, share them with the world always, and remember whence
they come."

"Will you show me some of your gifts?" asked Nina, timidly.

The spirit drew nearer and took from her bosom a glittering gem. It
was clear and flawless, and though it was white a thousand sparks of
flame broke from its heart, and flashed their different hues to every
side. As Nina looked, wrapped in admiration, she felt her heart grow
big, and she felt a great longing to do some one a kindness,--to do
good to some one, no matter to whom.

The spirits gazed at her kindling eyes.

"There!" they cried in joyous unison, "Love has already given you her
gift. The way you must use it is always to put in everything you do.
It will never grow less, but will always grow more if you do as we say.
And it is the same with Hope and Peace and Good-will and all the rest.
If all to whom we give our gifts should use them aright, the world
would hold a festival all the year."

And at this all the blessed throng closed about her, and loaded her
down with their offerings, until she was quite overcome with gratitude
and emotion.

"All we ask is that you use them well," they repeated with one accord.
"Let nothing injure them, for some day you will be called to account
for them all, you know. And now you are to have a special gift,--one
by which you can gain world-praise and world-glory. And oh! be careful
of it, dear; it will gain for you great good if you do not abuse it,
and you need never be tired nor cold nor sad-hearted any more--"

"But I have no place to keep all these things," cried Nina. "I have no
home. I live anywhere. I am only a poor little Italian singing-girl.
I--"

"Keep them in your heart," answered the spirits, softly; and then one
of them bent over and kissed her upon the lips.

"Ah, _gracia_, _gracia_,--thanks, thanks!" she cried; but even as she
spoke she sank back in dismay, for everything about her was dark and
still, and for a moment she did not know where she was. Then groping
blindly about in the shadow, she felt the wooden back of the pew in
which she sat, and then she remembered.

But the gifts,--the spirits' Christmas gifts to her. Where were they?
For a long time she searched, stretching out her hand and passing it
over cushion, bench, and floor; but all in vain. No heavenly object
met her grasp, and at last she gave a poor little moan of
disappointment and sorrow,--

"It was only a dream after all,--only a dream."

But now through the tall windows stole a faint streak of light. It
grew ever stronger, and by its aid Nina made her way to the doors, in
order to escape from the church in which she had slept away the night.
But alas! they were closed and fastened tight. She could not get out.
She wandered to and fro through the silent aisles, growing quite
familiar with the dusky place and feeling not at all afraid. She
thought over her dream, and recalled the fact that it was Christmas
Day,--the Festa del Ges� Bambino.

"It was a dream," she mused; "but it was a beautiful one! Perhaps the
spirits gave it to me for my Christmas gift. Perhaps the Ges� bade
them give it me for my Christmas gift;" and just as a glorious burst of
sunshine struck through the illuminated windows, she took up her little
fiddle, raised her bow and her voice at the same time, and sang out in
worshipful gratitude,--

"Mira, cuor mio durissimo,
Il bel Bambin Ges�,
Che in quel presepe asprissimo,
Or lo fai nascer tu!"

She did not hear a distant door open, nor did she see through it the
man who had unconsciously lured her into the church the evening before
by the power of his playing. No; she was conscious of nothing but her
singing and the sweet, long notes she was drawing with her bow from the
strings of her beloved violin.

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