Chapter VI: The Great Birthday

THE bells were ringing merrily from the tower of the old church close to Pleasant Place.

The street near the church was full of people bustling to and fro, going in and out of the different shops, and hurrying along as if none of them had any time to lose. The shops were unusually gay and tempting, for it was Christmas Eve. Even Pleasant Place looked a little less dull than usual. There were sprigs of holly in some of the windows, and most of the houses were a little cleaner and brighter than usual.

Angel and her mother had been very busy all day. They had just finished their mangling, and had put all the clothes out of the way for Christmas Day, when they heard a knock at the door, and Angel went to open it.

"It's a basket, mother," she said. "It can't be for us."

The man who had brought the basket laughed.

"It's for an Angel!" he said. "Have you got any of that article in here? Here's the direction I was to bring it to—'Little Angel, No. 9, Pleasant Place.'"

"Then, please, it's for me," said Angel.

"For you!" said the man. "Well, to be sure! So you are the angel, are you? All right, here's your basket!" And he was gone before they could ask more.

The basket was opened with some difficulty, for it was tightly tied up, and then Angel and her mother put out the contents on the table amidst many exclamations.

There was first a plum-pudding, then a number of oranges and apples, then a large cake, and then a pretty Christmas card, with a picture of a robin hopping about in the snow, and these words printed on it, "A Happy Christmas to you all."

"Where can they all have come from?" said little Angel, as one good thing after another came out of the basket. At the very bottom of the basket they found a tiny note.

"This will tell us about it," said Mrs. Blyth. "Why, it's directed to you, Angel!"

So Angel's mother sat down, stirred the fire, spelt it carefully out, and read it aloud by the firelight.

"MY DEAR LITTLE ANGEL,"
"I send you a few little things for Christmas
Day. I hope you will have a very happy day. Do not
forget whose Birthday it is. Your friend,"
"MABEL DOUGLAS."

"Whose birthday is it, mother?" asked little Angel.

"The Lord Jesus Christ's," said her mother reverently. "Did I never tell you that, little Angel? It's the day we think about Him being born a little baby at Bethlehem."

Angel was sitting on her stool in front of the fire thinking, and it was some time before she spoke again. Then she said suddenly, "What are you going to give Him, mother?"

"Give who, Angel?"

"What are you going to give the Lord Jesus for His birthday?"

"Oh, I don't know," said her mother. "I don't see how we can give Him anything."

"No," said little Angel sadly; "I've only got one penny,—that wouldn't buy anything good enough. I would have liked to give Him something on His birthday; He did such a lot for us."

"We can try to please Him, Angel," said her mother, "and do everything that we think He would like."

"Yes," said little Angel, "we must try all day long."

That was a very happy Christmas Day for Angel and for her mother.

"This is the Lord Jesus' birthday," was Angel's first thought when she awoke in the morning; and all through the day she was asking herself this question, "What would Jesus like?" And whatever she thought He would like that she tried to do.

Angel's father was at home to dinner, and was very kind to her all day. He had not been seen inside a public-house since Angel's birthday. It was a very good little Christmas dinner. As they were eating it, Mr. Blyth said:

"Emily, have you seen those bills on the wall at the top of the court?"

Angel's mother said, "No; I have not been out to-day."

"There's to be a meeting to-night in that little schoolroom just a bit of way down the street. That new young minister's going to speak; and it says on the bills it will all be over in half an hour. I've a good mind to go and hear what he's got to say. Will you come with me?"

"Yes, that I will," said Mrs. Blyth, with tears in her eyes. She had not been inside a place of worship with her husband since the first year they were married.

"Can't Angel come too?" said her father, as he looked at her earnest little face.

"Not very well," said Mrs. Blyth; "we can't all go. Some one must stop with baby and the children."

When Angel's large plum-pudding was put on the table, a sudden thought seized her. "Mother," she whispered, "don't you think Jesus would like poor old Mrs. Sawyer to have a bit of it?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Blyth, "I'll cut her a slice, and one for Annie too, poor girl. Will you take them in?"

So Angel went next door with her two slices of plum-pudding. She found Mrs. Sawyer and her niece Annie just beginning their dinner. There was nothing on the table but some tea, and a loaf of bread with a few currants in it, so Angel felt very glad she had brought the pudding. She was sure Jesus would be pleased they should have it; and she thought it would make Him glad on His birthday to see how Mrs. Sawyer and Annie smiled when they saw what she had brought them.

"Are you going to this meeting to-night?" said Annie, as Angel turned to go.

"No, I'm not going," said Angel; "but father and mother are. I must mind the children."

"I'll tell you what," said Annie; "if you'll bring them in here, I'll mind them. I can't leave aunt, and they'll be a bit of company for her."

And so it came to pass that Pleasant Place beheld the wonderful sight of Mr. and Mrs. Blyth and Angel all going together to the little meeting in the schoolroom.

A good many Pleasant Place people were there; and they looked round in astonishment as Mr. Blyth came in, for they thought him about the most unlikely man in the whole court to be there. And his wife and little Angel, as they sat beside him, prayed very earnestly that he might get a blessing.

Mr. Douglas's text was a very strange one for Christmas Day—at least, so many of the people thought when he gave it out. It had only four words, so that even little Angel could remember it quite well—

"GIVE ME THINE HEART."

"Suppose," said the minister, "it was my birthday, and every one in my house was keeping it. They all had a holiday and went out into the country, and there was a very good dinner, which they all very much enjoyed, and altogether it was a very pleasant day to them indeed."

"But suppose that I, whose birthday it was, was quite left out of it. No one gave me a single present; no one even spoke to me; no one took the slightest notice of me. In fact, all day long I was quite forgotten; I never once came into their thoughts."

"Nay, more. Not only did they do nothing whatever to give me pleasure, but they seemed all day long to take a delight in doing the very things which they knew grieved me and pained me, and were distressing to me."

"Surely, my friends, that would be a strange way of keeping my birthday; surely I should feel very hurt by such conduct; surely it would be a perfect sham to pretend to be keeping my birthday, and yet not take the slightest notice of me, except to annoy and wound me! My friends," said the minister, "this afternoon I took a walk. In the course of my walk I saw a number of people who pretended to be keeping a birthday. And yet what were a great many of them doing? They were eating and drinking and enjoying themselves, and having a merry time of it."

"But I noticed that the One whose birthday it was, was quite forgotten: they had not given Him one single present all day long they had never once spoken to Him; all day long He had never been in their thoughts; all day long He had been completely and entirely passed by and forgotten."

"Nor was this all. I saw some who seemed to be taking a pleasure in doing the very things He does not like, the very things which offend and grieve Him—drinking and quarrelling, and taking His holy name in vain."

"And yet all these, my friends, pretended to be keeping the Lord Jesus Christ's birthday!"

"But, I trust, by seeing you here to-night, that you have not been amongst their number. I would therefore only put to you this one question—"

"The Lord Jesus Christ's birthday! Have you made Him a present to-day?"

"A present!" you say. "What can I give Him? He is the King of kings and Lord of lords. What have I that is fit for a present to a king?"

"Give Him what He asks for, my friends. He says to you to-night, 'Give Me thine heart.'"

"That is the birthday present He is looking for. Will you hold it back?"

"Oh, think of what we are commemorating to-day. Think how He left His glory, and came to be a poor, helpless babe for you; think, my friends, of all His wonderful love to you. And then I would ask you, Can you refuse Him what He asks? Can you say—"

"Lord, I cannot give Thee my heart. I will give it to the world, to pleasure, to sin, to Satan, but not to Thee,—no, not to Thee. I have no birthday present for Thee to-night?"

"Oh, will you not rather say—"

"'Lord, here is my heart; I bring it to Thee; take it for Thine own.
Cleanse it in Thy blood; make it fit to be Thine'"?

"Will you not this night lay at your King's feet the only birthday present you can give Him—the only one He asks for—your heart?"

"Mother," said little Angel, as they walked home, "we can give Him a present, after all."

It was her father who answered her.

"Yes, Angel," he said, in a husky voice; "and we mustn't let Christmas Day pass before we have done it."

And that night amongst the angels in heaven there was joy—joy over one sinner who repented of the evil of his way, and laid at his Lord's feet a birthday present, even his heart.

There was joy amongst the angels in heaven; and a little Angel on earth shared in their joy.

LITTLE DOT