sitting down to rest on a nearby tree stump.
âI shanât touch it. I found one once and took care of it until it was well. The ungrateful thing flew away the minute it was able,â said Bessy, creeping under Kateâs shawl and pulling her hands up under her chin to warm them.
Tilly heard not a word. âPoor little birdie!â she crooned. âHow pitiful you look and how glad you must be to see someone coming along to help you. Iâll take you up gently and carry you home to Mother. Donât be frightened, dear. I am your friend.â Tilly knelt down in the snow, stroking the bird with her hand and the tenderest pity in her face.
It was only then that she realized Kate and Bessy were laughing.
âDonât stop for that thing,â they chided. âNow come along. Letâs continue looking for a purse before it gets too cold and dark.â
âYou wouldnât leave it to die!â cried Tilly. âIâd rather have the bird than the money we might find in a purse. After all, the purse would not be mine, and I would only be tempted to keep it. But this poor little creature will thank and love me for my trouble. Thank goodness I came in time.â
Gently lifting the bird, Tilly felt its tiny, cold claws cling to her hand and its dim eyes brighten as it nestled down with a grateful chirp.
âNow Iâve a Christmas present after all,â she said smiling. âIâve always wanted a bird, and this one will be such a pretty pet for me.â
âHeâll fly away the first chance he gets and die anyhow,â said Bessy. âYouâd be better off not to waste your time with him.â
âHe canât pay you for taking care of him, and my mother says it isnât worthwhile to help folks that canât help us,â added Kate.
âMy mother said, âDo to others as you would to be done to by them,â and Iâm sure Iâd like someone to help me if I was dying of cold and hunger. I also remember the little saying, âLove your neighbor as yourself.â This bird is my little neighbor, and Iâll love him and care for him, just as I often wish our rich neighbor would love and care for us,â answered Tilly. She leaned forward slightly, breathing her warm breath over the tiny bird, who looked up at her with confiding eyes, quick to feel and know a friend.
âWhat a funny girl you are,â said Kate. âCaring for that silly bird, and talking about loving your neighbor in that serious way. Mr. King doesnât care a bit for you, and he never will, though he knows how poor you are. So I donât think your plan amounts to much.â
âI believe it, and I shall be happy to do my part,â answered Tilly. âI must bid you good night now, and I hope youâll have a merry Christmas and receive lots of lovely things.â
As she left her friends and walked on alone toward the little old house where she lived, Tillyâs spirits began to sink. Suddenly, she felt so poor. Her eyes were filled with tears as she thought of all the pretty things other children would be finding in their stockings on Christmas morning. It would have been so pleasant to think of finding something for herself and pleasanter still to have been able to give her mother something nice. So many comforts were lacking with no hope of getting them. The little family was pressed enough to simply find food and firewood.
âNever mind, birdie,â whispered Tilly. âWeâll make the best of what we have and be merry in spite of our lack. You shall have a happy Christmas, anyway, and I know God wonât forget us, even if everyone else does.â
Tilly stopped a moment to dry her eyes and lean her cheek against the birdâs soft breast. The tiny creature afforded her much comfort, though it could only love her, not one thing more.
âSee, Mother, what a nice present Iâve found,â she cried, entering the
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