Sunday, 1 January 2017

The little happy new - A story by Ellen Robena Field

One cold morning Maurice awoke from his dreams
and sat up in bed and listened.

He thought he heard a knock at his window;
but though the moon was shining brightly,
Jack Frost had been so busily at work that Maurice
could not see through the thickly painted panes.

So he crept sleepily out of bed, and opened the window,
and whispered: “Who is there?”

“I am,” replied a tinkling voice. “I am the little New
Year, ho! ho! And I’ve promised to bring a blessing to
everyone. But I am such a little fellow I need
somebody to help me distribute them. Won’t you
please come out and help?”

“Oh, it’s so cold!” said Maurice; “I’d rather go back to
my warm bed; “ and he shivered as Jack Frost, who
was passing, tickled him under the chin with one of
the frosty paint brushes.

“Never mind the cold,” urged the New Year; “please
help me.”

So Maurice hurried into his clothes, and was soon out
in the yard. There he found a rosy-cheeked boy a
little smaller than himself, pulling a large cart which
seemed to be loaded with good things.

On one side of this cart was painted the word “Love,” and on the
other “Kindness.” As soon as the New Year saw
Maurice he said, “Now please take hold and help me
pull;” and down the driveway and up the hill they
traveled until they came to an old shanty.

“Here is where I make my first call,” said the New
Year. Maurice looked wonderingly at him.

“Why,Bnobody lives here but an old colored man who works
for us; and he hasn’t any children!” “He needs my
help,” said the New Year; “for grown people like to be
thought of just as much as children do.

You shovel out a path to his door, while I unload some of my
blessings; and the little hands went busily at work,
piling up warm clothing, wood, and a new year’s
dinner, the New Year singing as he worked:—

“Oh, I am the little New Year; ho! ho!
Here I come tripping it over the snow,
Shaking my bells with a merry din;
So open your door and let me in.”

Old Joe, hearing some noise outside, came to the door,
and when he saw all the nice gifts the tears ran down
his cheeks for gladness; and as he carried them into
the house, he whispered: “The dear Lord has been
here to-night.”

“Where am we going now?” asked Maurice, as they
ran down the hill. “To take some flowers to a poor
sick girl,” answered the New Year.

Soon they came to a small white house, where the
New Year stopped. “Why, Bessie, our sewing girl
lives, here,” said Maurice. “I didn’t know she was

“See,” said the New Year, “this window is open
a little; let us throw this bunch of pinks into the
room. They will please her when she wakes, and will
make her happy for several days.”

Then they hurried to other places, leaving some
blessing behind them.

“What a wonderful cart you have,” said Maurice;
“though you have taken so much out, it never seems
to get empty.” “You are right, Maurice, there is never
any end to love and kindness. As long as I find
people to love and be kind to, my cart is full of
blessings for them; and it will never grow empty until
I can no longer find people to help.

If you will go with me every day and help me scatter
my blessings, you will see how happy you will be all
the long year.”

“A happy New Year!” called someone; and Maurice
found himself in bed, and his sister standing in the
doorway smiling at him. “Have you had a pleasant
dream, dear?” she asked.

“Why, where is the little New Year?” said Maurice;
“he was just here with me.”

“Come into Mamma’s room and see what he has
brought you,” answered his sister.

There in a snowy white cradle he found a tiny baby
brother, the gift of the New Year.

How happy Maurice was then! But he did not forget his dream.

Old Joe and Bessie had their gifts, too, and Maurice tried
so hard to be helpful that he made all his friends glad because
the happy New Year had come.

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