American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Sunday schools -- United States -- Periodicals
MERRY CHRISTMAS to all my Blossoms! Glad am I to be able to give you
this happy greeting once more. And to the many new faces which I greet
for the first time, the wish is just as hearty; may each of you have
this month, not only the merriest, but, in the truest sense of the
word, the best Christmas you ever enjoyed in your lives.
Shall I tell you how to make sure of this? I dare say you know, but I
will just repeat the thought to keep it before your minds. In the first
place, let each of you make a Christmas gift, very costly and very
precious, to the best friend you have. Now I see many sorrowful faces,
and hear low, regretful voices: “You would like to, but you have no
money to spend, or at best but very little, and cannot afford anything
costly.” Is that what I hear you say? Mistaken, every one of you. The
most costly and precious thing in the world, is the strong true heart
which has its home in your body, my boy—or my girl. I want you, this
Christmas month, to give it away to the Lord Jesus Christ.
No matter if you have done it before. I am glad to know that many of
you have. Just renew the gift. Choose some quiet hour, and go alone,
and, on your knees, say: “Lord Jesus, I give myself anew to Thee, in
return for Thy great Christmas gift to me. I give Thee my time, and my
strength and my will. I ask Thee to direct me all day, and every day,
in the way in which Thou wouldst have me go. And I promise to use my
tongue to speak for Thee, and my hands to work for Thee, and my feet
to do errands for Thee, and my heart to love Thee.”
I wonder how many will use this prayer, and mean each word in their
hearts? Just so many will be sure to have a happy Christmas, and a
happy year.
One other thing: Some of our Blossoms have been transplanted during the
year that is past. God has sent his angels and gathered them to bloom
in His upper garden, where flowers never wither. Now, while we are glad
for them, shall we not remember the homes from which they have gone?
The dear fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters, who cannot,
sometimes, keep the tears from coming, because they miss their darlings
so? Will not every Pansy Blossom ask the dear Lord to help and comfort
these sorrowing hearts?
Now, just one thing more: What can you do on Christmas Day which will
make somebody else happier than he or she could possibly have been if
you had not done it?
Think it out, my Blossoms, “something for each of you now to do.” Then,
set to work and do it; then write and tell me all about it, and I’ll
weave all your letters into a story for next year’s PANSY.
Lovingly,
PANSY.
======
_Annie and Florence._ No doubt your game, “Jack Throws,” is a good one
but as it has a diagram, and as our printer cannot always prepare such,
it may fail to appear. Sorry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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