_THE LITTLE GRAY GRANDMOTHER; OR, THE ENCHANTED MIRROR._
Nobody knew whence she came or whither she went. All that any one of thechildren could have told you about her, was that oftentimes they lookedup from their play and there she stood, in her soft misty gray gown, andstill softer, long, gray cloak and shadowy gray veil which alwaysreminded them of thin smoke. Sometimes her face could scarcely be seenbehind this mysterious veil, and sometimes it shone quite clear anddistinct. This was always the case when any one of them had done someunselfish or brave act and thought no one knew it. And yet, if happywith the thought, he or she chanced to look up, there would be theLittle Gray Grandmother, her face fairly shining with the glad smile ofapproval. Then suddenly she would disappear and they would not hear ofher for days and days.
There was a large family of them, and they had sharp eyes too, but noneof them ever saw her coming until, as I said before, there she stood inthe midst of them. They lived near the great sea, and its mist oftencovered the coast for miles and miles so that nothing but the dimoutline of objects could be seen. Therefore, their city cousins hadfallen into the way of laughing at them and saying the Little GrayGrandmother was only a bit of the sea fog left behind after a damp day,but _they_ knew better.
Although she had never spoken to them, had she not smiled at them, andsometimes looked sad when she came upon them suddenly and found any oneof them doing a mean or greedy deed, and ah, how stern her eyes were theday she found Wilhelm telling a lie! Nobody could make _them_ believethat she was only a dream which came from a bit of sea fog! Then, too,had she not left that thimble for Mai which was no sooner placed on herthimble-finger than it began to push the needle so fast that a seam ayard long would be finished before you could say, "Jack Robinson,"unless you had practiced saying it very often.
Who else was it that brought those tall leather boots for Gregory whichhelped him to run so fast when sent on an errand that even his dog,Oyster, could not keep up with him? And as for Lelia, everybody knewthat it was just after the Little Gray Grandmother had paid them a visitLelia had found herself holding that bottle of Attic salt from far-awayGreece, two grains of which placed on the end of her tongue, caused goodhumor and wit to flow with every word she said until she was equal to abit of sunshine on a dark day.
All of them were as certain as certain could be that she had presentedDoodle when he was a very little child with those soft, warm mittenswhich somehow grew as he grew and so always just fitted his hands. Whatwonderful mittens they were, too! All Doodle had to do on the coldestday was to reach out his hand in his hearty, cheery way, to any one, andno matter how cold that person might be, even if his teeth werechattering with the cold, he was sure to feel a warm glow all over hisbody. This was how Doodle got into the way of taking care of all thelame dogs and sick cats that came along; and why all the old peopleliked him. They said he made them feel young again. And Tom and Wilhelmand the rest of them, had not the Little Gray Grandmother left a giftfor each of them?
Ah, but they were a happy family! What if they did have to eat herringand dry bread all the year round, with potatoes now and then thrown in,and had to live in a hut, didn't they have a Little Gray Grandmother,when so many city children, who thought themselves fine because theylived in big houses, had never even heard of her!
Now, you can understand why all the children were gathered togethereagerly looking at something which lay on the sand before them. TheLittle Gray Grandmother had been there and had left something. What wasit? They could not tell. It glittered like the surface of a pool ofwater when it is quite still and the sun shines down upon it, and theycould see their faces reflected on it just as they had often seen themin the well back of the house, only this mirrored their faces much moreclearly than the well did. _What was it?_ For whom had the Little GrayGrandmother intended it? These were the questions they could not answer.So they decided to take it in to the dear-mother and have her explain itto them.
Ah, the dear-mother, she must know, she knew almost everything and whatshe didn't know she always tried to find out for them. That was thefinest thing about the dear-mother. Of course she cooked their food forthem, and made their clothes, and nursed any of them when they were ill,and all such things, but the great thing about her was that she neverseemed too busy to look at what they brought her and was always ready toanswer their questions. Therefore they with one accord decided to takethis new gift into the house and ask the dear-mother about it.
Of course she admired it; she always admired everything they broughther, if it was only a star-fish or a new kind of sea-weed. She said itwas made of some sort of precious metal, and that it seemed to be amirror such as they used in olden times before looking-glasses had beeninvented. "Perhaps," she added, "it has been washed up from the sea."But the children cried, "Oh, no, the Little Gray Grandmother left it."They were very, very sure of that. But for whom had it been left? Eventhe dear-mother could not settle this question.
At last it was decided that it should be hung on the cottage wall thatall might use it; so there it hung for many a year, and ah, such strangethings as the children saw reflected in it! It was not at all like anordinary mirror, not in the least like anything you ever saw, and yet,perchance you may have seen something like it. How do I know?
Well, at any rate the children had never heard of such a wonderfulmirror before. It had a queer way of swinging itself on its hinge--Iforgot to tell you that it had been fastened to the wall by a hinge sothat its face could be turned toward the east or the west window, andthus let the children see themselves in the morning as well as theevening light. At first they thought this was a fine idea, but sometimesit was not exactly comfortable to have the small mirror suddenly swinground and face them when they didn't care to be faced.
For instance, when Mai had been working hard all day and because shefelt tired, spoke crossly to the little brothers, it was not at allagreeable to look up and see the face of a bear reflected in the silvermirror, or when Gregory had been boasting of something fine he was goingto accomplish, to catch a glimpse of a barnyard rooster strutting aboutas if he were indeed the master of the farm. Somehow it made Gregoryfeel foolish even if the rest of the children did not see the image inthe mirror. Once little Beta came in ahead of the others, and, findingsome apples that the father had brought home, seized the largest one andbegan to devour it. A swing of the silver mirror brought its polishedsurface before her eyes, and instead of a reflection of her own chubbyface, she saw a pig greedily devouring a pile of apples. She couldn'tunderstand it, and yet it made her feel ashamed and she quietly laid theapple back on the table.
But the pictures were not all disagreeable ones. Sometimes the smallsilver mirror reflected _beautiful_ pictures. One bright summer day whenMai had stayed indoors all the morning to help the dear-mother finish ajacket for Beta, when she was longing with all her heart to be out inthe sunshine, she chanced to glance up at the small mirror, and therewas the vision of a beautiful Saint, with a golden light around her headsuch as Mai had seen in a church window once when she was in the city.The smile on the face was radiant. In a moment the vision haddisappeared and only the shining surface of silver remained.
One day Gregory rowed little Beta across the bay to the large town onthe other side, and did without his dinner that with his little farthinghe might pay for the privilege of letting her climb the light-housestairs and see how big the world was. That night when they reachedhome, tired and happy, Beta looked into the mirror and there she saw thegood St. Christopher wading through a dark stream of water with thelittle Christ-child on his shoulder, and somehow the face of St.Christopher was Gregory's face. As she cried, "Look!" she pointed to themirror, but Gregory could see nothing but its shining surface. Still,Beta ever afterwards called him "St. Christopher," little dreaming thatin years to come he would truly be the means by which many littlechildren were carried safely across the dark streams.
At another time Doodle had rescued a poor frightened cat from some boyson the beach who wer
e tormenting her, and even though they jeered at himand called him "chicken-hearted" he had taken the little creature up inhis arms and brought her in to the dear mother. As he passed the smallsilver mirror, a picture of a young knight shone in the depths of itssurface, with a face so strong and pure and brave that Doodle stopped toadmire it and wonder how it came there. Again and again when thechildren did a kind, or a truthful, or loving thing, the mirrorreflected for a moment some beautiful image which instantly disappearedif it were spoken of. Somehow it constantly reminded them of the gladlook in the eyes of the Little Gray Grandmother when she found themplaying peacefully and happily together. And strange to say, the LittleGray Grandmother never came again after the small silver mirror had beenhung on the wall. Probably she thought they did not need her any longer.
Many years passed by and the children were all grown, when thedear-mother was called to pass on to her heavenly home. As they gatheredaround her death bed she asked them to hand her the small silver mirrorwhich still hung on the home wall. She took it and broke it into pieces,giving a piece to each of of the eight children, and each pieceimmediately became a full-sized mirror as large as the first one hadbeen. These she told them to keep always with them, and then with agentle smile she passed away. As they separated to go out into theworld, each one took his or her small silver mirror and hung it in hisor her private bed room, that each might look into it and know, forcertain, whether that day had been spent for the cause of the right orthe wrong.