Chapter XVIII: Little Bertie and Others

In the beautiful Summer-land where I live, men and women who are always kind and good are the teachers of little children. They once lived on earth, and they loved children; so now, in the beautiful heavens, they are teachers. If you know any man or woman who loves children, and is kind to them, you may know these good people will some day be teachers and guides of little ones in another world.

You would like to know about the Summer-land where I live. It is like a large garden, extending as far as you can see or travel; beds of gay flowers bloom there and sweeten the air with their fragrance; lakes and brooks and fountains splash and gurgle with crystal water; there are groves of trees, in the leafy branches of which birds sing and chirp all the day; butterflies flit about from flower to flower, and the golden sunlight falls in beauty over all.

In this vast garden we have our homes; some are snug little white houses, covered with flowering vines, and shining out daintily from the glossy green; others are stately habitations, large and roomy, and built of white or rose-colored or golden-hued stone.

Here we live with those we love, and we strive to be good and kind to all. The kinder and gentler we are the more beautiful our homes appear, and the sweeter grow the lovely blossoms about us, because when anyone is good, he sends out a bright, shining light, which influences and envelopes all that it reaches, and beautifies it; but if anyone is unkind, he sends out a dark, cloud-like vapor, that blights and destroys the flowers, and darkens his surroundings.

The little children meet in groups in this fair garden, and, tended by their kind teachers, they learn their lessons and sing their little songs. Sometimes a new friend is brought to them, some little one who has just left earth and is in need of kind friends and loving care, and these children at once welcome the new-comer, give her a share of what is theirs, love her, include her in their pleasures, do not ask whether she was rich or poor, and make her happy. To this sweet place all who wish can come, that is, if they are gentle and kind; but the light here is so brilliant that it would hurt the eyes that are often filled with anger. Some day, when your bodies die, you will come here, if you wish to be taught, if you are children, or to be teachers if you are grown up.

A little girl came to us from earth a short time ago; she was so white and quiet and gentle that we dressed her in white and called her Lily. She had never been to such a pretty place before; her parents were poor and could not live in the country, but were forced to dwell in a little narrow back street in the big city. You can imagine her delight at finding herself in our Summer-land, where she could cull the beautiful flowers and hear the birds sing, and play with them, too, all day, if she wished. (The beautiful birds are very tame in our world; they perch upon our shoulders and hands, singing all the time; they are not afraid, and no one ever harms them.)

For a while this little girl was very happy and contented; she was such a mild, gentle little thing that we all loved her at once. Soon I perceived that she grew more quiet, white, and sad, and I found that she was grieving because she had all these sweet joys around her, flowers, birds, fields, friends, a beautiful home and kind teachers, while her mother, and a little sister, who was lame, were obliged to live on earth in the little dark street, with nothing beautiful to brighten their lives. She wanted her mother, she wanted Nellie to share her new home, or she wanted to go back and live with them. Then I showed her that though it was not yet time for her dear mother and sister to come to the Summer-land, yet she could go back to them, and make them feel better and happier. She was all delight at the thought. Plucking handfuls of the sweet flowers that grew around her, with her pure face all ashine with love, she asked me to take her back to her earthly home, which I was glad to do.

We found her mother hard at work sewing, and the little lame girl trying to help her. We brought all our influence to bear upon the two, but could not make them feel our presence. Leaving the flowers she had gathered, spirit Lily came away disappointed and sad. But again and again she tried, until at last, little lame Nellie began to see the flowers and the light which shone around her angel sister, and finally she could see that sister herself, converse with her, and tell her wondering mother the many strange things told to her of the Summer-land.

Now our little Lily is contented and happy, anxious to learn in our spirit school, for every day she returns to earth, to teach her sister what she learns, to show her the flowers and birds of heaven, and to bless and comfort her mother with her presence and her love.

Little Bertie was a sweet little boy, the only child his mother had; his father had gone to dwell with the angels long ago, and his dear mother was obliged to labor very hard for the support of herself and her little boy. Bertie and his dear mamma lived in a little white house, that had a flower garden attached to it, where the roses and pansies and sweet pinks grew and blossomed through all the long, golden days of summer. The little house stood just out of town, not very far from the big stone house where the lady lived who supplied Bertie’s mother with sewing work.

Little Bertie was only seven years old, but it was his delight to dig and plant in the garden, to water the flowers, and to keep the weeds from choking up the blossoming plants and shrubs; and while engaged in this work, he would chirp and whistle to the dear little birds who came to watch him, and to sing him sweet songs, as they swung merrily upon the branches of the one cherry-tree that the garden contained.

One day, as little Bertie was working away and singing a childish song, a tiny shadow fell across his path, and looking up he saw a little girl, about five years old, standing beside him, and gazing wistfully at a bunch of red roses he held in his hand, which he had just gathered for his mother. The little stranger had evidently strayed through the open gate; her pale face was very thin and wan, her large blue eyes appeared as though they were only used to looking on disagreeable scenes; but now they were lighted up with pleasure at the sight of the beautiful flowers! Her clothing was poor and worn, and her whole appearance betokened want and suffering.

Little Bertie’s curiosity, as well as sympathy, was aroused; he plied the child with questions, but, alas, she could not answer, for she was dumb. This she made him understand by signs, also that she had come a long way and was tired; she stretched out her hands toward the blooming flowers, as though they could give her rest.

Crowding her hands full of flowers, Bertie led the little wanderer in to his mother, who soon made her more comfortable, by bathing her heated body in cool water, and by feeding her with a bowl of fresh milk and bread.

That night the little dumb girl slept in a nice, soft bed with Bertie’s mother. The next day Bertie’s mother tried to find out the home of the little girl, and for many days after, but all in vain. The angels had led her to that pretty home, and the angels intended she should stay. Her former home had been one of misery and want; her own mother was an angel in heaven, and her father had neglected and beaten her. Bertie was greatly delighted with his little sister, as he called the stranger; and soon the two children learned to love each other very dearly.

Bertie and his mother were soon able to understand the signs the little girl made, and there was no difficulty in knowing her wants. They called her Daisy; and the two children were to be seen daily among the flowers, which both fondly loved.

Bertie’s mother had to work harder than ever now, as she had another little mouth to feed, and another little body to clothe; but she did not fret, for she loved the little girl, who gave so much pleasure to her Bertie. Sometimes, when the children were tired with work and play, and had become quiet, or at the twilight hour, when the flowers and birds were going to rest, little Daisy would creep to the feet of Bertie’s mamma, and, fixing her gaze upon the far-away blue sky, would put up her little hands with a look as though she heard sweet sounds, and saw beautiful sights. And so she did; for the angels came very close to this little girl, and sometimes, when they brought her flowers from the Summer-land, she would see them and hear the sweet songs they sang.

The winter began to approach; summer faded away, and little Bertie was very ill. The angels wanted him in their beautiful home, and one night, just before the snowy Christmas time, he drew his mamma’s face down to his and kissed it, put his arms around her neck, and whispered: “I am going, mamma; papa says so. I see him; he says Daisy will be your child now; the angels brought her here for you; and he says I can come to you again.” And so he passed away to the pure spirit world, where all is light and joy.

His mamma wept over the cold, white body of her little boy, from which his sweet spirit had forever fled; but little Daisy only smiled as she gazed upon the tiny form, robed in its snowy raiment; for she had seen the spirit of her little playmate as it passed out from the earthly form and was clasped in the arms of its angel father, and she knew that Bertie had gone to live in that beautiful, wonderful land of sunshine and flowers, which she sometimes visited in her dreams.

And how was it with our little Bertie? Oh, he was glad to come to our bright Summer-land and play with the birds, which sang so sweetly to him, as they perched upon his hand; for in the spirit world the little birds have no fear; we do not confine them in cages, but they live in the shrubs and among the flowers, and they are so tame they will come to us when we call them, and alighting on hand or shoulder will delight us with their melodious songs.

Bertie’s father lives not far away from the sweet spot which to me is home in the spirit world; and so it happened that the little boy was brought to me to learn of the many beautiful things in the Summer-land, and to join with other little people under my charge in gaining a knowledge of life and its duties. And what a dear, sweet little fellow he is; always happy and contented, ever ready to part with the most beautiful flower or bird he possesses, if it will enhance the pleasure of some one else; always anxious to return to earth and bear messages from spirits to those who long to hear from their friends. We all love him for his goodness and truth.

It was about two weeks after Bertie’s flight to the Summer-land; the snow lay thick and white around the earthly home of his mother; it had been a hard day of toil and pain for that poor woman, for she was obliged to labor, even while a severe cold, which had seized upon her, seemed to tear her lungs with merciless fingers; and now in the twilight hour, with little Daisy sitting at her feet, the tears fell thick and fast from her weary eyes as she thought only of that little snow-covered grave in the lonely church-yard.

Suddenly, a mellow, tender light, like the last soft gleam of sunset, streamed into the quiet room; but the sun had long since set behind the clouds, and there was no moon. The mother never stirred, but lay back in her chair, her gaze riveted upon the face of the little dumb girl, across which the strange light fell, lighting it up with untold beauty. The eyes of the child were fixed on vacancy, as though she saw something beyond the sight of mortals, as she truly did; for little Bertie, hearing the gentle fall of his mother’s tears, even in his spirit home, came lovingly back with hands filled with spirit flowers, and it was his form that little Daisy saw in the gleam of that mellow light which the angels brought to the cottage home.

Gliding up to the side of the little girl, Bertie filled her hands with the flowers, and then and there, in the brief space of a moment, the lonely, tired woman saw a sight she never forgot,—the form and features of a little boy, her little boy, her Bertie, bending over the quiet form of little Daisy, crowding her hands with the most beautiful flowers she had ever beheld. At the same instant, a breath of perfume swept across her senses, and she distinctly heard the words uttered, in the well-known tones of her little boy: “For mamma.” Daisy, the child who was both deaf and dumb to earthly things, heard the angelic whisper also, and as a flash of joy lighted up her features, she stretched out her handful of flowers to the startled woman.

At the instant, all sight and sound vanished, leaving only the darkened room as before; but what had come to the child? Seizing a slate and pencil from the floor, where she had left them when tired of tracing lines upon the slate an hour before, little Daisy wrote in a clear, bold hand: “Dear Mary, fear not; the angels guard and guide you; your dear ones are not dead; they live in a bright home, where they wait for you; they can return and bless; through this little child we can make our presence known; we bring to you our love.—HENRY.”

Henry was the name of Bertie’s father, and Mary that of his mother. What did it mean? Surely it must be true. Little Daisy could not print her own name, and this was Henry’s handwriting. Thus the good woman thought; but though somewhat frightened and anxious, her heart grew comforted; a feeling of deep peace fell upon her spirit, and she ceased to mourn.

As for little Bertie, he was wild with delight. He had manifested his presence to his mother; she could no longer fear that he was lost to her; for had she not seen him with her own eyes. A happier little boy did not dwell in the Summer-land.

But Bertie’s mother has never seen him in that way again, though he returns daily with his offering of choice flowers. However, little Daisy always beholds him, and she is enabled to tell his mother, by signs, when he is at her side. The slate and pencil are kept constantly at hand, and often, in the twilight hour, a strong influence comes over the little girl, and she is made to write loving messages in the bold hand of Bertie’s father, or in the printed letters of Bertie himself.

And the mother’s heart is comforted. She knows her dear ones live and love her, and that she will meet them again. Daisy has proved a gift of untold value to that lonely woman, for which she is deeply grateful; while in his spirit home, Bertie works happily in helping others, and learning all he can for himself.

Nor is this all: wealthy, kind people have taken an interest in Daisy, and in co-operation with the angels are educating her, that she may become an accomplished woman.

Spirit children learn most rapidly by coming back to earth, bearing messages to mortals; they also grow beautiful and strong in so doing. Knowledge increases with them, and they become wise and experienced in a little while. They earn their lovely homes; all the bright, beautiful things they have are theirs, because they have worked for them, and they know how to enjoy them thoroughly.

Now, my dear children, if in these pages I have written or should write any word or sentence that you do not understand, please to ask your kind parents or some good friend to explain it to you; because in talking of the work of spirits, I may not always employ the language which is easily comprehended by such little folks as you. But I promise you to write as simply as I can, that you may read and understand for yourselves.

Sometimes the spirit children come to earthly homes where little children in the body dwell, and try to bring them—the mortal children—good hearts and pleasant lives. Messenger spirits bear messages of love to the little folks on earth, and plant a desire to be kind, loving, and gentle in the breasts of those who linger here.

I know of a home on earth where three little children live with their mamma, who is a poor woman. There is a little boy in the Summer-land who is a cousin to these children, and very often he comes from his home in “Golden Nest” to play with his cousins; and every time he is with them they grow so gentle, kind, and loving toward each other that their mamma loves to watch them; and she feels very happy, even though she does have to work so very hard.

These little folks do not know that the spirit boy is with them, enjoying their games, and at the same time filling their hearts with bright thoughts and the desire to be good to each other. Little Charley, from Golden Nest, cannot bring his cousins costly toys or rich food, but he can do what is much better, and that is he can make them happy by his sunny presence. With him comes the sunshine, the fragrance of flowers, and the music of birds,—all from the Summer-land. The little earthly children cannot see the light, smell the perfume, or hear the birdies sing; but they _feel_ all these things, and their hearts become bright, fragrant, and sweet in consequence.

So Charley is a messenger bird who carries joy and gladness everywhere, and the poor woman takes comfort in the gladness of her darlings, wondering how they happen to be so cheerful, but feeling thankful that their hearts are so bright. Little does she know that an angel from the Summer-land is in her home, casting a ray of heavenly light over each one. Now, little children, perhaps you may be favored by the company of some little playmate from the Summer-land; and if you will only be kind and loving to each other, I am sure you will feel the gladness which the messenger spirits bring to your lives.

I know a little child who lives in the Summer-land whose name is Helen. She passed away from the body when a little babe, but as that was years ago she is now quite a good-sized girl. Helen is a great worker for others; she is not at all selfish, but is never so happy as when she has succeeded in making others feel glad. She is quite a traveler, too, and journeys from place to place bearing messages of cheer, and seeking out the lonely, sad-hearted spirits, in order to give them comfort and peace.

I have heard of this spirit working in various cities on earth, and have been told that she has consoled many mortals who were bowed down in sorrow, by telling them of their dear little children or kind friends who sent their love to them from the spirit world. Helen is an angel,—that is, she is truly a messenger spirit, and everybody loves her for her gentle kindness and her loving ways.

Not very long ago, Helen brought to our home in the Summer-land a dear little boy whom she had just found. He was a waif who had died to the earth a short time before, and had no kind mother or good father to take care of him. He had been taken in charge by a loving spirit, but our Helen had begged so hard to have him in her keeping that the gentle lady let the child go. It seems the boy’s mother lives in the body, and that she is very unhappy over the death of her little one. She has not been very good in her life, and she thinks her child has been taken away from her by an angry God to punish her for doing wrong. Helen has found out that this woman is a medium, and she thinks she will have power to take the little boy to her, so that the mother may become aware of the presence of her child, and be made a better woman thereby.

And this is the work that Helen is at present trying to accomplish. The little boy under her care is a bright, loving little fellow, and will, I am sure, grow to be a noble youth. He repays the kindness lavished upon him with gratitude and affection. All the best part of his nature is now growing, and the good within him is coming up into outward life. He has been taken to see his poor earth-bound mother, and Helen has succeeded in making her think that her boy may be permitted to come to her. This thought started within her mind a new train of reflection; and the woman feels that if his pure spirit can come to visit her, she must try and live a better life. She would not have her child see her do a wrong act,—anything that would make him unhappy, or cause him to turn away from her; and so she is trying very hard to do right and to be a better woman.

One night the woman saw her child in company with another of larger growth. Both beings looked so beautiful, their faces shone so brightly, and such a sweet smile lingered on their lips, that a thrill of joy ran through her weary frame. When she awoke and found, as she thought, that it was all a dream, she wept bitterly; but since that time the poor woman has not tasted a drop of liquor, nor said a bad word, nor done anything that was naughty, because she feels that perhaps the angels are watching her actions. And so this good work is going on, and two children of the Summer-land may have the honor of redeeming a human life from wrong-doing and sin.

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This is the season of the year when the little people who dwell in happy homes on earth receive pretty presents from their kind parents, or from each other. The pleasant expressions: “I wish you a merry Christmas,” and “I hope you will have a happy New Year,” are heard on all sides; and the little children of the Summer-land feel so pleased at this, because they like to see the earthly children joyous and glad.

At holiday times, my little friends, you are in a good condition to receive visits from the angels, because you do not feel naughty, nor are you unkind to each other, but each one of you rejoices over the pretty gifts all have received, and are willing to share your sweetmeats with your playmates and friends. So the little angel children who come around you smile and feel glad that the bright Christmas and golden New Year come to earth to bless each home, and to make the children happy. Just at this time of the year you will have beautiful dreams; for when you are snugly tucked in your little beds, and your tired eyelids have dropped in slumber, our little messengers—spirits of the Summer-land—have the power to take you away from earth up to their bright home, where they show you all the lovely things that are to be found there; then you have a joyous time until the morning light breaks into your room, when you are conducted back to your bodies, and awake refreshed; and, oh, so glad because of all the pretty sights you thought you dreamed of, but which you really did see in the Summer-land.

Some of our spirit messengers have been watching a dear little girl who lives in a big city on the earth. They love to see her patient little face, all bright with smiles, watching her mamma to see if there is not something she can do to help her. The mamma of this little girl, whom we will call Bessie, is very poor, and she has to work hard in order to buy food and clothing for herself and child. Bessie does not grumble and cry when her mamma has nothing but bread and molasses to give her for dinner, but she eats her food with a brave smile as she says: “Never mind, mamma; when I get to be a big woman I’ll work hard, and then we’ll have ’tatoes every day.”

The angels love to come to Bessie, because she is a very lovable child, and they would rather visit her and sing their songs to make her slumber sweet than to enter the luxurious homes of wealth and gaze upon all the beautiful objects they contain.

Last Thanksgiving, Bessie had a couple of cookies and a big red apple to go with her bread; these her kind mamma bought her as a treat. Christmas had almost come, but the little girl did not look for any gift to come with it, because, she said: “Santa Claus can’t find out everyone, and so I guess he’ll not come this way this year.”

A band of spirit children determined among themselves to give Bessie a good Christmas; so they went out here and there into the homes of the rich in the big city, and tried to influence those who lived therein to do good unto others. At last they found a little girl who wanted to make some one happy; and so they kept putting thoughts into her head how to help others. When she went out to play, the spirit children would make her walk up and down before the old house where Bessie lived, and sometimes she saw the child gazing shyly at her from the window. At last the idea popped into the head of Sadie—the little girl whose parents were wealthy—that she “would like to give that little bit of a thing”—meaning Bessie—a good Christmas; so she told her mother what she wished to do, and asked her assistance.

I cannot tell you all that was done; but early Christmas morning Bessie’s mamma was called to her door by a loud rap, and there stood a colored man, who bowed, lifted a large basket into the room, and disappeared. A note attached to the basket read: “For the little girl and her mamma who live here, with a merry Christmas from Santa Claus.” Oh, the nice things to eat that were in that basket, enough to last a number of days. There were also a package of toys, a pair of mittens, and a bright plaid dress for Bessie, with a warm gray shawl for the mamma. You may imagine Bessie’s joy when all these things were shown her. She clapped her hands again and again, while her good mother’s heart was full of thankful praise to the unknown friend who had made her little one so happy. Sadie also enjoyed her Christmas better than ever before; for she not only felt the results of a good deed in her heart, but also felt the sweet influence of approving angels surrounding her, while the messenger spirits from the Summer-land rejoiced with exceeding joy in the happiness of each one.