J. F. Campbell Collection > Household stories

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THE CHILD'S GRAVE.
There ^vas once a Mother who had a little Boy, seven ye.ars old, so
pretty and good that no one saw him without loving him ; and she,
especially, loved him with her wliole heart. One day it happened that
he suddenly fell sick, and by-and-by the good God took him to himself;
and the poor Mother was so grieved that she would not be comforted,
but cried day and night. Soon after his burial the Cliild appeared one
night in the place where during his lifetime he had been wont to sit and
play ; and while his Mother wept he wept too, and at daybreak dis-
appeared. When, however, the Mother still lamented his death,' and
cried without ceasing, he ajipeared again one night in the white shroud
in which he was laid in his cofRn, and with the garland of flowers round
his head. He sat down at the foot of his Mother on the bed, and said
to her, " Ah ! my Mother, cease to weep, else can I not sleep in my
coffin, for my shroud is moistened continually with your tears which fall
upon it ! "
The Mother thereupon was frightened, and dried her tears ; and the
next night the Child appeared once more, holding a light in his hand.
" See, my dear Mother!" he said, "see, my shroud is dry now, and I
can rest in my grave ! "
After this the Mother sorrowed no more, but bore her loss with
patience and trust in God ; while her Child peacefully slept in his
narrow grave.
-A'
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