SISSIE had five brothers, but no sisters, for as she used to say, “You all dot a sister ‘cept me.” This little girl was accustomed to visit an aunt, and upon one of these visits she beheld a number of beautiful beads.
“Oh! how petty; what butiful tings,” cried Sissie, clapping her hands.
“Yes,” said her aunt smiling, “which should you like best, dear?”
“Me lite this,” said the child, holding up coral necklace, and trying to fasten it round her neck.
“Very well, Sissie, you remind me before you go home and you shall have it.”
Sissie cast longing eyes upon the treasures as her aunt closed the box and led her from the room, for never before had she seen such lovey blue, and white, and red necklaces, or such beads, having all the colors of the rainbow.
When the day came for the child to return though she had a very distinct recollection of the promise, she was too shy to remind he aunt of it. However, on her arrival at home, the little girl lost no time in imparting the wonderful information about the beads to her mother adding, “But I did not lite to ‘mind her, so we tome home widout my petty beads.”
Now, Sissie’s father lived in a large old fashioned house, which had very large cellars under it. One of these was reached by a flight of steps from the garden. Its folding doors could be thrown open at pleasure, and upon rainy days it was a favorite play place of the children; besides, hay and straw were kept there, and it was great fun to jump from one truss of hay to another.
One morning Sissie awoke with a very pleased expression of countenance, and very bright hopes indeed, and as she was being dressed, she frequently said to her nurse, “Oh! Mary, do be tick, I want to do.” The kind nurse humored her pet, and as soon as the finishing strokes were put to the child’s hair, the little feet tripped lightly downstairs, and soon began a vigorous knocking at the cellar door. Mary followed, wondering what the child meant, for she appeared to be in a very fever of impatience. An elder brother, who had heard the kicks, hastened to open the door for his little sister. In the play-cellar Sissie ran, with eager eyes and face all radiant with anticipated pleasure, when suddenly, after a dismayed glance around, she threw herself upon the floor in a perfect passion of sobs.
No one could guess what the distress was about until her father came, when the little girl cried, “Oh! papa, what did you do it for? You might have let me have some.”
“Hush, my child,” replied her father; “come to me, and tell father all about it.”
In short, jerky sentences, interrupted by sobs, she said: “Why, pa, you ‘member in the night, when that man brought that tart load of beads for me, and you opened the doors, and told the man to upset them in the cellar, didn’t you tell me I should have them all in the morning, and now you’s took ’em all away?”
“There are no beads in the cellar, Sissie. You must have been dreaming,” said Mr. C., as he turned away to see after the realities of the day’s business.
But who can describe the child’s disappointment. Nurse stroked her hair, telling her “she had only dreamed it,” but this brought no consolation to the child, for she was very young, and did not in the least understand what a dream meant.
“Mamma,” said she, confidingly, “I know papa would not tell a story if he ‘membered, but indeed he did tell the man to empty the beads in the cellar, and now he has had all looked away, but he’s fordot.”
“Sissie, darling,” said her mother, “did Sissie see the cart load of beads?”
“Tourse I did, ma,” replied Sissie, sitting up, and her eyes sparkling at the recollection, “butiful they was, all sorts, and such a lot for my dolly and for you.”
“Listen, Sissie,” said the mother; “my darling has been dreaming.”
“What is dreaming, mamma, and how has I done it?”
“I cannot make you know yet, but you have done it, because you thought there were beads in the cellar, but really there were none.’
“Oh, mamma, won’t you ‘lieve me? I not fought it; I seed the beads wid my very owr eyes.”
As long as memory lasts Sissie will never forget the bitter disappointment of that morning. Her little playmates were to be made happy out of her abundant stores, and nurse and dolly, too, were to be supplied, while SOME of the very best were to be for dear mamma.
But everybody assured her it was only a dream! One thing is certain. She so truly believe that her eyes did really see the “petty tings,’ that sometimes after a visit from her aunt, or a present from a friend, Sissie would soberly enquire, “Mamma, did Aunt Mary really give me my new dolly, or is it a dream?” and would often startle a visitor by asking, “Are you really come, or is it a dream?”
More than thirty years have passed away, and Sissie is a woman, who has had many heavy losses, but never does she remember more genuine disappointment in not finding what this world promises to give, than in her grief over, her dream. Indeed, many a daydream has Sissie since had, which has proved as unsubstantial and deceptive as the “cart-load of beads.” For she spent several years chasing shadows, till God, by His Holy Spirit, awoke her out of her sleep. Now she knows what real joy is.
Dear young girls, do you not know there is a difference between the ideal and the real, the false and the true. If you are following in your affections the empty glitter of earthly amusement, applause or gain, although you may scornfully smile at the simplicity of little Sissie, yet, after all, you are doing a much more foolish thing than she did; you are dreaming a dream which will end in bitter disappointment. If you imagine earth can make an immortal spirit satisfied, that is only a dream.
Dream not there is a long life for you, for it may be even now that the fiat is passed, “This year thou shalt die.” Are you ready for the realities of eternity?
It may be, eyes are upon this page which once wept on account of sin, but which have been lulled into sleep. The unreal seems real to you now, dear young friend, and the things of eternity are hidden from sight. Oh, what a dreadful time it will be when the poor deluded soul wakes up to the truth, that the sought-for treasures are like those of Sissie’s dream—nowhere!
If I have said Sissie has learned the vanity of earth’s pleasures, I must also say she has proved the reality of the love and power of Jesus. In varied trials, and during many years, has she found in Him a perfect Friend and Saviour.
Ask yourself, my young reader, upon what are you resting your soul for eternity. Is it upon some vision, some fellow-creature, yourself, your doings, or upon some creed, however orthodox? To rest on these will end in despair. Such hopes will prove as vain as did the expected treasure of little Sissie. But the Bible is real, the word of Jesus is true, Christ is a glorious reality. There is no disappointment in Him. He ever fulfills His word. Faithful is He that promised, who will also do it. Oh! try Him for your Saviour. Go to Him, though you have lived for the world up till this hour. Confess your sins― “His blood cleanseth us from all sin.” Trust His word― “Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out,”―and you shall prove in having Christ that you have everlasting life and everlasting joy.
May each one who reads this possess a living Saviour. RHODA.