“Tenderhearted, Forgiving One Another”
In the sweet June twilight, Willy Carter came slowly through the clover-scented fields, carrying, very carefully, a little willow basket, with the cover tied fast. A very satisfied smile was tugging at the corners of Willy’s red mouth, and happy thoughts were dancing like fire-flies in the twilight of his great gray eyes. It was so pleasant walking there so quietly, with the red sunset still burning in the west, and the birds crooning so sleepily from the trees. And then when, once in a while, he took a delighted peep through the crevices of the basket, how could he help smiling more and more?
But suddenly, as he lifted his eyes, he saw Jack Dawkins standing by the gate at the end of the meadow. Now Willy was quite afraid of Jack, who was a rather mischievous boy, loving to tease his companions, and so he turned quietly to go in another direction.
But Jack saw the intention, and called loudly, “Here, Will Carter, you little blockhead, where are you going so fast, and what have you got in your basket?”
Willy knew it would do no good to run, and so he thought he would just try to be very pleasant and polite, and perhaps he would have no trouble. So he went forward as cheerfully as he could, saying, “Oh! Jack, what do you think! I have been over to grandmother’s, and she has given me the most beautiful kitten in the world!”
“Let’s see her,” said Jack.
Will lifted the cover cautiously, saying, “She’s so lively, she’d be out in a minute, if you didn’t take care. Now did you ever see such a beauty?”
Jack peered in curiously. “She is pretty, that’s a fact—just as white as snow.”
“There isn’t a black hair on her, anywhere,” cried Will, with enthusiasm; “and I’m trying to think what name to give her. Pearl is good, and Snowball, but grandmother called her Lily, and I guess I will, too. Oh! You ought to see her run after a string. She rolls over and over, just like a little ball of wool.”
“What will you take for her?” asked Jack.
“Oh, I don’t want to sell her,” said Will, with great apprehension, sliding the cover over the basket.
“I’ll give you my top.”
“No, I don’t want it.”
“My kite?”
“I’ve got one of my own.”
“Well,” urged Jack, “what if I should give you my knife with two blades?”
“Ah,” said Willy, thoughtfully, “maybe you’d want it back again; and, any way, I think I’d rather keep the kitten.”
“You’re a mean, stingy fellow!” cried Jack, angrily, “and I’ve a good mind to take it away from you this minute.”
“Jack,” pleaded Willy, “you wouldn’t like to give me your little dog, Spot, would you?”
“No, indeed; I love him as well as I do myself.”
“Then why won’t you let me keep my kitten?”
“Well, you’re such a baby, you don’t know half the funny things you can do with her.”
“Why, what are they?”
“Let me take her a minute, and I’ll show you.”
Willy didn’t dare refuse, and tremblingly handed out his little pet.
“Well,” said Jack, “in the first place, you can play hand-organ with her. You just take her by the back of the neck, this way, and then take her tail and turn it round and round—just so. There,” said he, laughing loudly, “do you hear the mew-sic?”
The poor kitten stretched out her little velvet paws, and mewed piteously, while the tears started to Will’s eyes.
“That’s too cruel, Jack; you will twist her tail off.”
“Well, then she’ll be better off; for suppose my dog, Spot, chases her, and she runs for some hole, and just has time to squeeze in, won’t she be a great deal happier if she don’t have her tail to look after?” and Jack laughed loudly at this poor attempt at wit.
Poor Will now begged very hard that Jack would put the kitten back in the basket, but all in vain; and he was just ready to despair, when he saw the school-teacher, good Mr. Hope, who was taking his evening walk through the fields. This gentleman, who had heard the latter part of the conversation, now stepped up quickly, and ordered Jack to restore the kitten, while he gave him a severe reprimand for his cruelty. Jack colored with rage and shame, and whispering to Will, “I’ll pay you for this, some day,” he darted across the fields, and Will hastened home to his mother. You may be sure he had a long story to pour into her sympathizing ears; but at last, he finished, saying, “Now, mother, did you ever know such a hateful boy? I declare, I can’t bear him; and I almost wish somebody would cut off Spot’s tail.”
His mother looked very sad, and said, “My dear, dear son, you do not know what you are saying. I am afraid our great Father in heaven sees very little difference in the hearts of Willy Carter and Jack Dawkins. I am sure Willy has been a sinful child today. He has been cross, thoughtless, disobliging, selfish, and has cherished many unkind thoughts. Oh! How very sad it would be if God should remember my little son’s morning prayer, ‘Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us,’ and should say, ‘I will forgive Willy Carter just as he forgives Jack Dawkins.’ ”
“Oh, Mother!” said poor Will, with streaming eyes, “I never thought of that. Do kneel down with me, and ask God to forgive me, and help me to forgive Jack.”
So they prayed a long time; and when, at last, they rose from their knees, Willy looked as if he were at peace with all the world. Then his mother kissed him, and said, “I have a little Bible verse which I wish my son to learn and always remember. It is this: ‘And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.’ (Ephesians 4:32)”
Willy learned it perfectly, and then, before going to bed, went out to find a good place in the barn where Lily might lodge for the night. As he left her nicely curled in the straw, he heard a slight noise, and thought he saw, through a knothole, the envious eyes of Jack Dawkins. But they were gone in a minute, and he concluded it was a mistake.
The next morning he rose early, and ran out to have a scamper with Lily before breakfast; but, to his surprise, she was not in the barn. A hasty search through the garden and kitchen was equally unsuccessful; and so he ran very swiftly across the fields to grandmother’s, to see if the kitten had grown homesick and run back to her brothers and sisters. But no, she had not been seen since they squeezed her little white back under the cover of Willy’s basket. Poor Willy came back slowly and heavily, had no appetite for his breakfast, and sat down to his lessons with a very sad heart.
In the afternoon a small box was left at the door for Will. The little boy tore off the wrapper, and read, printed on the box in straggling letters, “A pond Lily for Miss Willy Carter.” He opened the box with a queer choking in his throat, and a vague suspicion that all was not right; and there, indeed, lay his little white kitten, with filmy eyes, draggled, dripping, drowned! Willy gave one look, and threw himself, sobbing, into his mother’s arms. He could not speak for a long time; but at last exclaimed, passionately, “Oh, Jack, Jack! How could you be so cruel? It’s too mean, too mean!”
“ ‘Tenderhearted,’ ” whispered his mother, “ ‘forgiving one another.’ ”
“Oh, I can’t now,” sobbed Will, “but I’ll try by and by.”
And he did try very hard, and, going to his own little room, he prayed so earnestly for help, that God gave him a “tender heart,” and took away all anger and desire of revenge.
That night, as Will stood sadly in the garden, over the spot where he had buried his kitten, he heard a sudden cry of “Fire!” Soon men came hurrying past, and little Will, carried away by excitement, joined them. “Where is it?” cried one. “Neighbor Dawkins’ barn, and he away at town,” was the reply.
It was almost dark, and Will stood gazing at the flames, with mingled fear and delight, when he heard the melancholy howl of a dog, and it flashed across his mind that poor Spot was chained in the barn, and Jack had gone off with his father.
“Ah! How terribly Jack will feel to have Spot burnt up!” thought Will. “I wonder where the poor dog is.”
He ran hastily around the other side of the barn, and caught a glimpse of Spot, jumping furiously the length of his chain, and then giving a long, despairing howl. The sympathy in Will’s great, big heart drove out every thought of fear, and, seeing that that part of the barn was not yet in flames, he sprang through an opening, into the midst of the smoke, unchained the trembling little Spot, and escaped safely into the open air.
“Why, boy, are you crazy?” cried the stout fireman, catching him up. “It was only a dog.”
“Oh! I could not bear to see him burn up; and then Jack loves him so dearly.”
Just then Jack came rushing up. “Where’s Spot?” he cried, in a trembling voice. “Did nobody unchain Spot?”
“Here,” said a man, “this little fellow periled his life to save him for you. He must think a heap of you.”
Jack turned crimson, and took the dog without a word, while Willy ran home.
An hour afterwards, as Willy still lingered upon the patio, talking with his mother, Jack came suddenly running up the walk, and threw his arms around his neck.
“Dear, good Will,” he sobbed, “can you ever forgive me? See, I have brought you Spot. He is more yours than mine. Oh, will you be my friend, and help me to be a better boy?”
“I’ve forgiven you long ago, Jack,” said little Will, giving him a kiss of peace; “but I do not want Spot. I could never feel happy to take your own little dog you have loved so long.”
But Jack could hardly be comforted, till Willy’s mother, taking his hand, talked kindly to him a long time, and taught him Willy’s sweet verse. Jack went home that night with some new thoughts in his head, and he made a firm resolve, with God’s help, to lead a different life.
The next morning he walked two miles to get another kitten for Will, and I am happy to say that these two boys did become so kind, so tenderhearted, so forgiving, to one another, and to all others, that we have every reason to believe that God, for Christ’s sake, has fully forgiven them.