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Sparse Pearls

The document is a collection of moral tales entitled "Scattered Pearls". The introduction provides details about awards received and information about publication. The index lists 45 short stories with titles such as "Providential Rescue at Sea", "A Glass of Cold Water", and "How God Saved Two Children". The first tale narrates the miraculous rescue of passengers on a drifting ship at sea after weeks of hunger and thirst.
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0% found this document useful (0 votes)
5 views145 pages

Sparse Pearls

The document is a collection of moral tales entitled "Scattered Pearls". The introduction provides details about awards received and information about publication. The index lists 45 short stories with titles such as "Providential Rescue at Sea", "A Glass of Cold Water", and "How God Saved Two Children". The first tale narrates the miraculous rescue of passengers on a drifting ship at sea after weeks of hunger and thirst.
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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Sparrow Pearls

Selection of Moral Tales

Brazilian Publishing House


1968

www.mundodesbravador.blogspot.com . 1
This book was awarded a gold medal at the Great
Exhibition of São Paulo, commemorative of the IV Centenary of
Foundation of S. Vicente, in 1932, and with two Medals and
Diploma at the Farroupilha Exhibition, in Porto Alegre, in
1935. Published by Casa Publicadora Brasileira in 1968.

www.mundodesbravador.blogspot.com . 2
Index
01 - Providential Rescue at Sea
02 - A Glass of Cold Water
03 - Twilight
04 - The Pleasures of this World Are Ephemeral
05 - Lift Each Other's Burdens
06 - A Painful Lesson
The Fatal Lie
08 - A Sacred Vote
09 - What Should I Believe?
10 - Unforgettable Words
11 - The Price of My Last Cigarette
The Ways of the Lord
13 - The Poor Washerwoman
14 - The Widow's Mite
15 - Capital and Labor
16 - Cast Your Bread upon the Waters
17 - Offer of Poor Indian
18 - Alice's Sermon
19 - The Protest of the Old Lady
20 - As Long as I Am Sincere
21 - Beware of the Fortunetellers
22 - Faithful Seat
23 - Do Not Judge
The Linesman and His Son
25 - A Mother's Prayer
26 - A Poorly Judged Boy
The Clock That Struck Thirteen at Midnight
The Young Merchant
29 - He Died for Us
30 - Wonderful Salvation
31 - The Eleventh Commandment
32 - The Forest Ranger and the Captain of Thieves
33 - A Commander Who Honored the Sabbath
34 - How God Saved Two Children
35 - About a Bridge
36 - Prayer Answered
37 - The Interrupted Sermon
38 - Well Understandable
39 - For the Love of Christ
40 - I Don't Care
41 - How a Beautiful Hymn Originated
42 - A True Story of the Life of a Woman
43 - Terrible Consequences of a Pernicious Vice
44 - The Madness of a Countess
Poor Uncle Silas

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01 - Providential Rescue at Sea
Mrs. Steinhauer, from Battle Creek, United States, shares below the interesting
an episode of a journey he made on a sailing ship from Jamaica to New Orleans,
the company of your parents. It was these missionaries who, having worked to the point of
to have their health weakened, they were forced to move to a milder climate
fresco. They decided, therefore, to head to the aforementioned point. During the journey, a
strong wind had diverted the ship away from its course, followed by a
complete calm, which made any movement of the vessel impossible. The vessel was
supplied only for a few days, it soon became necessary to distribute the food
in rations, to the passengers and the crew.

Mrs. Steinhauer says: "When the days have been prolonged to the point of becoming
weeks, our sufferings became extremely tormenting. I remember well
to be gnawing on a kid leather glove to obtain some nutritious particles from it.
We received half a biscuit and a small cup of water every twenty-four hours - quota
excessively small in food and even more insufficient in water, under the Sun
burner of the semitropical zone. ...

Some passengers drank their portion of water immediately upon receiving it; others
they caressed her with fervent eagerness, as if they feared that someone stronger would
that they snatched them away from us. Finally, due to prolonged thirst, our tongue swelled up.
it's a bad point that we can hardly close our mouths. My mother thought that diving into strips of cloth
in seawater, then wrapping them, wet, around the neck,
it provided some relief. It was indeed maddening to see the water all around
we could not quench our thirst.

After four long weeks, it was decided that in order to make the meager portion of
groceries would last a few more days, a man was thrown into the sea. The fate had to be cast.
at night, but the decision would not be made public until shortly before they were distributed
rations, the next day, in the hope that some rescue would come before
proceed to execute this measure.

"My father and a Spanish gentleman slept on the deck, while my mother and I,
being the only females, besides the commander's wife and three others
third class ladies, we retired to our bunks.

It goes without saying that many prayers were made during all the previous days,
but my mother decided to spend the whole night in prayers to God, which she indeed did.
Early in the morning, she fell asleep exhausted, being awakened by my father's voice, who said:

- My wife, it seems to us that we have spotted in the distance the sail of a ship.

- Oh! my mother exclaimed in a low tone, this ship will pass like the others that
we spotted.

"We had been tormented by the sight of many ships that, like black dots,
they appeared on the western horizon, but always remained at such a great distance
that we were unable to call them to speak, nor even for them to see our signal of
despair. Then, recalling her activities during the night, she added,

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No, God forgive me! It is He who heard my prayer; the ship will come in
our help.

- Do not be too sure, my wife, my father said tenderly; for, do not


I want you to be disappointed. Naturally, if it is God's will, the ship will come in.
our help.

It is Your will, my mother confidently replied. I am sure that salvation


is near.

We get dressed as quickly as possible and then we go up the stairs to the


deck. I will never forget the scene that unfolded before my eyes. There, at
side of the ship from where we could see the object we hoped would bring us the longed for
Help, all the people on board were gathered. Not a word was spoken.
but at first glance nothing could be discerned; in deadly silence the eye of
the ship's range moved from one to another, so that everyone could look.

It really looks like a ship. Yes, now we were sure that our hope had
solid form. But would the ship come towards the place where we were? or does it see-
Would we disappear from sight like the ship of a dream?

But no; more and more the ship was approaching us. Soon we could see it with our own eyes.
unarmed. Signs, we could not make, as we were too weak and
exhausted. The ship, however, was arriving, nevertheless, in a straight line. Finally, we
they spoke up:

- Ship, hello!

But none of the men on board had enough strength to respond.

Although there was no response, the vessel continued to approach until it arrived close.
near our unfortunate ship, when a boat was lowered in which four took their place
men, one of whom appeared to be the commander. The supreme longing of that
the moment is imprinted indelibly in my memory, even though it was I in that
I am a simple child.

The commander was the first to board our ship, and upon climbing onto the deck, seeing the
our misery, took off his hat and said in a solemn voice:

- Now I believe that there is a God in Heaven!

It was found to be one of those tugboats that take other ships to the
port. By law, these tugboats are required not to depart except up to a certain
distance from the port. (It was at least that way back then.) But the narration that was made to us
the commander was quite unique:

Having gone as far as the law allowed, he felt an inexplicable force urging him to
continue the march, and this despite not seeing any ship on the horizon. Its pilot
he protested against it, reminding him of the fine he incurred.

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- I can't resist! I am forced to continue the journey! was the only answer.

Shortly after, he started to suffer from a desperate nausea, something he had not experienced before.
it had happened twenty years ago, and he found himself forced to withdraw to the box; but even
thus refused to return, giving orders to set sail.
they rebelled, for they were starting to feel the lack of provisions, and they decided to take matters into their own hands
Own the direction of the ship, believing that the commander had lost reason.

At this point, the anguish that tormented him became agonizing, and he begged them to
they would continue their journey, promising that if by the dawn of the next day it did not dawn on them
if there was nothing that justified your action, you would abandon the project and return to
port

And to this the crew reluctantly agreed; and, as day broke, the man in the basket
from Gávea reported that they saw, in the distance, a dark and motionless object.

- Exactly the same! exclaimed the commander peremptorily. That's exactly what
we look for.

At that same moment, he felt the nausea pass, and he resumed his command position, as
Dante. When he reached us, he saw the emaciated bodies and our
unconsolable misery seized him with irresistible strength - even though he had been an atheist
many years ago - the conviction that a supernatural power had guided him, and that
there was a God in Heaven. Later, when I learned how my exhausted mother had
spending the night in prayer, he enhanced his faith to the point of including the fact of being this God
a God who hears the prayers of His children and attends to them.

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02 - A Glass of Cold Water
(Episode of the Great War)

During a long journey by railroad, I had been, for some time, on a day of
exhausting heat, in the company of a cavalry officer, who had taken part in
some battles in the great war.

He told us some episodes, but none impressed me as much as the following:

It was, on that day, the day after a victory won at great cost with efforts and
extraordinary fatigue. I had been tasked with delivering an important order to
rear guard, when, at the moment of leaving, my exhausted horse refused to march;
was missing and could not even walk. Without delay, I went to get another; this one was so
bravo and sly, that a few minutes passed before it was possible for me
mounting it and subjecting it to obedience. It would rear, kick out and when I was almost about to
defeat him, he would stop at the slightest obstacle and continue his jumps.

Meanwhile, I had to hurry; the message I was carrying would not admit to delay.
no delay, and the road, obstructed with troops and materials, made it even more difficult
my trip. It was noon and I was only halfway. The air was heavy and
dusty; clouds of dust were drying my throat. I was exhausted my canteen was
empty, I felt myself fainting. On a turn of the path, I discovered an abundant spring,
alongside which some soldiers rested and filled their canteens.

I wanted to go down to do the same, but the horse, as if sensing my


intention, it jumped so furiously that I had to give up my attempt, so as not to
excite the coarse laughter of the camp.

Annoyed by this setback, I unscrewed my canteen and, heading towards one of the
soldiers, the only one who didn't seem to laugh at my misfortune, I extended it to him, asking him to
I am sorry.

He had a bad appearance, a furrowed brow; yet I was far from expecting
such a cruel response:

Fill yourself!

In the face of these words, my anger knew no bounds.

Damn you! - I shouted at him; - I hope one day I find you dying of thirst and begging for water.
cold water glass, so that I can also enjoy pushing it back!

Then, I spurred the horse and took off in a wild race, without paying attention.
two invitations from the other soldiers, who were shouting at me to come back.

A league later, a young boy, compassionate, gave me water, for me and my horse.
In exchange I gave him a handful of money, but comparing it to the readiness he had
by serving me with the conduct of my comrades in arms, I felt as if a wave
of hatred turning inside me.

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The face of that soldier imprinted itself in indelible lines in my imagination; and I swore
find him - God forgive me! - until I can take my revenge. For two years, in the fields of
battle, among the dying, I continued this impious search with no result. Finally, it arrived
the day.

As a result of some injuries, I was taken to a war hospital. Not being


still in a state of resuming my work, I spent my time taking care of those who
they were more injured than I.

I have never felt so compassionate towards the poor soldiers as in the midst of these
scenes of pain and suffering, of which the battlefields give no idea at all.
I took true pleasure in relieving their pains and making them happy.

Amidst these new occupations, I forgot my 'enemy.' That's what I called


still the one who had refused me the glass of cold water.

After a great battle, many wounded came to our hospital. All the
the rooms were filled; the heat was dreadful, and the patients suffered cruelly from thirst and
from the scorching atmosphere of the room. From all the beds were shouting: Water! Water! Water!

I took a cup and a bucket of cold water, and I went from row to row, distributing the
precious liquid to all who asked for it. Just the falling of water into the glass would make them shine.
the joy in the eyes burned by fever.

When I was walking through the backstage between the beds, a man lying next to another
the side of the room suddenly stood up, shouting:

Water! Water! For the love of God!

I was horrified. Everything around me disappeared from my sight and I saw nothing but
to him. It was what had refused me a glass of cold water!

I approached him, but he didn't recognize me. He fell exhausted onto the pillow, with his face...
turned towards the wall. Then I felt my soul compress, I heard a voice inside of me
I mean distinctly:

It makes him hear the sound of the water, it passes and passes again in front of him, it gives to all who
They seek her and not him. Take revenge!

But at the same time I heard the murmur of another voice. Some say it was the voice of my
consciousness; others of God, and still others the result of my mother's lessons.
Whatever it was, this voice said:

My friend, today is the right day and the hour to repay evil with good, to forgive,
as Jesus forgave you. Go and give drink to your enemy.

An involuntary movement pulled me onto his bed; I supported his head with the
I brought the glass closer to your feverish lips.

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Oh! How you drank! I will never forget your expression of relief and the look you gave me.
without uttering a word. I saw that he was deeply moved.

The poor man had to undergo amputation of a leg and I asked the doctor for permission to
take under my care.

He treated him day and night. For a long time he kept the same silence, until a
the day, when I was moving away from his bed, he grabbed me by the jacket and, pulling me back
beside me, he said in a low voice:

Do you remember the day you asked me for a drink?

Yes, comrade; but what's done is done. That is over.

- Not for me, he continued; I don’t know what was happening that day; the captain had just
reprimand; had a fever, was angry. A few moments later I became
I am ashamed of my conduct, but it was too late. I have been looking for him for two years.
to ask for your forgiveness. When I recognized it here, I remembered what you had told me and had
fear. Tell me: Do you forgive me?

I had searched for him for two years to take my revenge; he sought me out to humiliate himself and me.
to ask for forgiveness. Which of the two had better followed the spirit of Christ? A certain confusion arose
They took over me.

Comrade, I told him after a pause - you are much better than I am; no
let's talk more about this!

I was present when they performed the amputation on him. I already loved him like a brother. He
He knew he was going to die, but before that, he entrusted me with some objects to send to his sister.
together with a letter that he dictated to me. He asked me if there was anything in the Bible that would not...
a passage that dealt with a glass of water.

- I ask you, I said to him, not to mention this again. But he continued:

You do not know, my faithful friend, the good you did by not refusing me the glass of water.

That night the patient's fever increased and at times he seemed to be delirious. However,
it was clear that his confidence in Jesus Christ was complete. He was certain of being
saved. Thus it showed him in his prayers.

In the early morning, she stirred, settled her head on the pillow, and closed her eyes to
do not open anymore in this world. Had fallen asleep to only awaken in eternity.

Seeing him die so peacefully and comforted, what great pleasure I felt in having given him
drink, thus paying him evil with good! Then I remembered these words of
Jesus: "Anyone who gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water to drink will certainly not lose his reward."

you will lose your reward.

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03 - Twilight
After finishing the day's work, a happy family was gathered around the table.
a comfortably furnished living room. A young man, who had been reading the newspaper by the window,
approached, joining the others in that happy circle. Their faces crisped by the
His muscular figure revealed a young farmer of about eighteen.
years. As he took his place at the table, a cheerful voice greeted him:

So, Alfredo, what's new?

Nothing extraordinary, Uncle Bento, Alfredo replied; I only read about the awards.
offered to the young person who writes the best essay.

Ah! And it's true that you also want to take the risk, isn't it?

Me, my uncle? Do you think that a country boy, having only knowledge
limited, can you write anything worth reading?

So then? I will respond to you after you tell me what you think of the newspaper's offer,
the uncle replied.

- Well, my uncle, replied Alfredo after hesitating for a few moments, it seems to me that the
offer to awaken those gifts of the intellect that place intellectual life above
physics and contribute to the development and enrichment of youth. And I am from
opinion that this offer is intended to demonstrate that the efforts made by
The competitors for the prize will revert for the benefit of those who do not do well.
happened like two who achieved the prize.

Very well, said Uncle Bento. The purpose of the offer is extremely useful and advantageous.
Habits formed in childhood will inevitably show in a person's actions, for
my own experience teaches me very clearly. In fact, my children,
I really want to tell you about an incident from my youth.

Tell us, Uncle Bento; do tell! everyone exclaimed together.

Instantly everyone's eyes were fixed on Uncle Bento. The mother set aside the book.
and the glasses, for she had also been reading until the darkness of the night had taken them away
forbidden. The father leaned back in the armchair and seemed to be
listen with as much interest as the children; for he knew well how abundant
the provision of interesting episodes was stored in Uncle Bento's memory.

While the uncle spoke, it seemed to us that his expression had an aspect
exceptionally sad. Putting his feet on a little stool, he began to tell:

Many years ago, after completing my studies at school, I felt a strong


desire to obtain a job on the railway that was being built at that time
here. Thanks to the protection from some friends, I got a job as a fireman in a
the main lines. It didn't take long for me to capture the friendship of everyone
employees of the road; and over time the director himself became my close friend.
We were about the same age; and there was nothing for me that wasn't

www.mundodesbravador.blogspot.com . 10
ready to do for Francisco Brito. I knew my job's duties and I was making an effort-
I did my best to fulfill them.

Meanwhile, my children, I was seduced; I fell more and more, as has happened to many.
others before and after me. Induced by frivolous companions, I surrendered to
They say, do you know what followed after? The addiction took on increasingly larger proportions.
One night, while I was very drunk, Francisco Brito entered. I did not recognize him until
who put their hand on my shoulder.

Bento, he said, come with me! For my sake, come with me!

He took me by the arm and led me into the fresh night air. Speaking to me again, his
the voice took on a pleading, sad tone.

- Bento, for the love of your mother and our friendship, I ask you not to do it again.
drink! good night, my dear friend!

With a confused head and a heavy heart, I made my way to my home. I knew well that
Francisco should have dismissed me from the job; however, he was extremely magnanimous and,
notwithstanding my fallen state, your trust in me was great enough to do so
proceed with me.

When, the next morning, I woke up, I felt an irrepressible desire for that drink.
poisonous. In one of the pockets, I found a bottle of brandy that I had bought at.
previous night. I couldn't resist the temptation to drink just one more time. The director
had left on the early morning express to inspect the line, as it was needed
the tracks of some concerts that he wanted to direct in person.

Our train departed about an hour after the express. The engineer being of
our train stopped due to illness, I found myself alone in the locomotive;
still the driver had full confidence in my ability. But alas! I wish it hadn't been so.
distrustful or aware that I, at that very moment, was not in control of myself,
finding myself in a state of stupor and stupidity due to excessive alcohol.
I had drunk enough during the day to get myself drunk and, therefore, there was no in
had no one who had the slightest suspicion that I was a slave to that addiction. But the
the fact is that, that morning, I had drunk until I could no longer stand.

Just after the locomotive was in motion, I hit my head against the
box of coal, carrying a deep wound on my forehead. I tried to get up, but
I was not able to. However, I remained throughout the entire time fully aware of the
mental faculties, perceiving with terrible accuracy everything that was happening around
I had fallen in such a way, between the machine and the coal box, that I could look
outside. We were going at a dizzying pace, with no one lifting a hand to
moderate the train's speed. At this moment we arrive at the location where they were supposed to take place the
referred repair works; and, as we rounded a bend in the line, I suddenly spotted
Francisco Brito was walking briskly along the line. At the moment when the
I spotted him kicking against a stone. He slipped, getting his foot stuck.
among the tracks. Poor Francisco wanted to get up, but to no avail. The train continued on
his hurried run, and Francisco saw all his efforts to rise frustrated.
Oh, my children, the most painful part of my story is knowing who...

www.mundodesbravador.blogspot.com . 11
If there had been no drunken state, it would have been possible to stop the machine in time.
to save your life!

There I was, too drunk to move! When we got close


to the site of the disaster, Francisco, who had fallen through the tracks, to the side where I was
lying on the locomotive, he caught sight of me and, with a pleading look, extended-
I raised both arms as if to say: - "Help me, Bento, help me!" A
Moments later we were so close to each other that I felt as if he was staring into my eyes.
my ... until they close forever. A freemason, who becomes Francisco when the
the tram ran over him, came rushing forward and, upon bumping into me, so
embarrassingly and stupidly extended on the locomotive, understood
instantly the situation, stopping the train. The remains of
Francisco, and they took me home attacked by a furious delirium. No one
those who were in the train, except for the guard, suspected that I was
drunk. And he - I never knew the reason - kept it a secret. It's likely that he thought
having been punished enough. I was sick for a long time, having suffered violently
meningitis access.

After I recovered, I never took another drop of drink again.


alcoholic. I considered myself worse than a murderer. When, later, I went back to work
on the road, I was a regenerated man. I was gradually promoted, until I reached
to be part of the road board.

I saw the companions of my youth descend to the grave, one after another; and I know that
Soon I will have to follow you. In the meantime, I want to say a few words to you, my
dear ones, before leaving existence. After they have left the protection of the roof
parents, having to direct their own destinies, shall have to present themselves
many temptations. And I hope that when this happens, they remember the night when
they were sitting around Uncle Bento, listening to the sad story he told them,
already in the twilight of his life.

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04 - The Pleasures of This World Are Ephemeral

Sitting in her luxurious room, Mrs. Vieira stared lonely and sad at the flames.
crackling of the fire burning in the hearth. Silvery threads intertwined in their hair, already
heavy, and his hands, adorned with expensive jewels, lay inert and tired over
the knees.

New Year's Eve! she murmured softly, letting out a deep sigh. In front of the
the spirit used to pass through the beautiful nights of St. Sylvester that were often celebrated in those
enclosures.

We then illuminated those vast halls with the profusion of lights and artifacts. They arrived at the
gathering, populating the beautiful halls, which were filled with a confused rumble of music,
laughter and chatter. And she, the queen of the party, kind, witty, and lively, was the center of it all.
that movement and life. It was not only on New Year's Eve that it used to be like this. The parties
so they followed one another, offering constant and countless distractions.

And this was what all his pleasure consisted of.

Below, on the ground floor, the husband, absorbed in business, worked throughout the day
whole without giving oneself respite, because that is what the stock market fever and the movement demanded
the constant and the excitement continues. At night, however, he never failed to attend the
meetings, and when the doors of the halls opened, the elegant and noble figure appeared
from that gentleman, a kind of feeling of pride would take hold of his soul, that hardly
I could conceal.

He was one of the most well-regarded citizens and respected as one of the
more reputable and astute merchants of that great commercial city, and their advice
they were sought by everyone.

Now, however, everything had changed. Alone and sad, she withdrew to her room,
he would fill her with even sharper sorrows, while in the adjacent room her husband,
sick and frail, he spent his days even sadder.

In the midst of the precipitation of commercial life, a cerebral congestion will prostrate it, which, if
it saved his life, yet made his existence one of the saddest that can be
imagine. Sitting in an armchair, he denounced by gesture and expressions being
condemned to idiocy. She did not feel brave enough to let herself stay
next to her husband, whose appearance of fatigue and despair broke her heart with pain
heart; lived for this, reclusive in her chamber. The dazzling parties of the past
had ceased, the friends had distanced themselves and the poor lady felt the approach of
age that often announces itself through weakness and fatigue. It could have continued
to enjoy the pleasures to which she had become accustomed and which had been, so to speak, her
element of life, but the exhausted forces no longer allowed it. The great halls
they were deserted, even today on New Year's Eve. After so much movement and
life, the silence and the void! Comparing your life with the past, it seemed to you
a large railway station after all the trains have left.

The bell rang in the adjacent room. When her husband woke from his slumber,
I used to call for her, because I did not enjoy being alone. Upon entering her room

www.mundodesbravador.blogspot.com . 13
he found him, as usual, reclined in his armchair with a childlike expression
in that facial expression once so intelligent.

Everything is over, everything is over! he exclaimed, glancing around


like looking for support. these were almost the only words she spoke since
that state will be reduced.

- Yes, everything is over, she murmured in a tone laced with bitterness, sitting down
your side to arrange the cushions.

Poor Elisa, everything is over, he repeated with a sad and painful accent, taking the ...
hands to the forehead as if trying to remember something, but since he couldn't,
fell back into its usual lethargy.

She withdrew then, because it was not possible for her to see him like that; she feared losing her mind and
to see oneself, like him, condemned to always utter those words: everything is over!

He would go out to occupy himself with something; however, finding nothing to do, he would return.
to his room and, pressing his face between his hands, cried inconsolably, saying:
Everything is finished!

Two floors above, at the back of the same building, lay reclining in an armchair.
another patient who had a hunched body, with paralyzed hands and feet. On the face
pale, however, there shone some gentle and lively eyes that gazed satisfied at the
flowers that the sister had brought.

Look, Henrique, she exclaimed, what the overalls offered me for the good new year.
Do you know what memory I had? When I was returning home, I looked and saw that the front of
the floor inhabited by Mrs. Vieira was all closed; I only noticed a small light in the
room where she usually is. I then thought to myself that they were there again.
the two old men, sad and alone, sitting in their corners, contemplating the happy days
that passed. The poor lady aged a lot, and I never saw him again.

Then the idea came to me to take them some of those beautiful flowers; perhaps they would be happy.
Oh! In another time, it wouldn't have crossed my mind to do such a thing. What a man.
eminent and respected as he was! Everything in the house obeyed him at the slightest gesture.
As for me, I must confess that I have always sympathized with him, although his serious demeanor.
it inspired me with a certain fear.

What do you say, should I go?

- Yes Tereza, come on, we should quickly put into practice a noble idea. After that,
when you return, we will celebrate St. Sylvester by reading Psalm 90, which will make me very happy
pleasure.

Teresa's dexterous and agile fingers quickly gathered some roses and foliage.
a small and beautiful bouquet, with which she went down to the counselor's house, where many already
times had gone to take stitches. The door was slightly ajar. Teresa entered
cautiously, soon spotting in a corner, next to the living room stove, the dejected figure

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of that great man whom everyone admired long ago. A childlike smile appeared on him.
on the lips, when Teresa presented him with the flowers, and, extending her hands, exclaimed:

- Oh! beautiful, beautiful! and, breaking into a sobbing cry, said: Everything is over,
everything is over!

No Mr. Vieira, everything is not over, Teresa said again in an energetic and decisive tone and,
pointing upwards, he continued saying: we have a Father in Heaven, who is and always will be the
our Salvador forever.

The patient's features suddenly contracted, and bringing his hand to his forehead as if to
evoking a distant memory, a lightning flashed suddenly in his eyes
softened and exclaimed:

Isn't everything done? Ah! let's pray: Our Father who art in Heaven, and saying this,
he tried to put his hands together as they had taught him when he was little.

Yes, let's pray, Teresa said: Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.
name! Your kingdom come! At this point he lost his memory, but upon arriving at the
At the end of the prayer, his face lit up again and, stammering, said: Yours is the kingdom, the
power and glory, forever. Amen.

The first and last words of this prayer must have had particular importance.
for him when he learned them as a boy, imprinting them more firmly in him for that reason.
memory.

Glory forever. Amen, he repeated once more, it is not all over!

Standing in the doorway, Mrs. Vieira listened as her poor husband said a prayer.
He then felt as if something was cracking in his heart, spilling into his chest.
a burning effluence of life. She, winnowed in tears, knelt beside her husband and took...
the hands.

Poor Elisa, he said softly, stroking her hair as if to comfort her,


not everything is over. Let's pray: Our Father who art in Heaven - and, repeating with difficulty the
prayer, said it until the end. Upon arriving, however, at the plea: 'Forgive our debts,'
she bent down to the ground; it was like the cry of the prodigal son: "Father, I have sinned against You and
against Heaven, I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Have compassion on me,
sinner, and do not let me perish.

The next morning, Mrs. Vieira was headed to a small church, guided by Teresa.
to the nearby suburb. She had no memory of such a thing ever occurring on a day of
It's good. After a night of distractions and festivities, no one felt like
arrangements to go to church.

And now she was going like a poor and helpless child, begging for compassion. Teresa
spend a large part of New Year's Eve in their company, listening to them with
cordial sympathy for the sufferings and grievances while at the same time seizing the opportunity to
to tell them about the brother who was also ill, about his resignation and his peace of mind,

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thus granting them a glimpse into that hidden world of true and unique adventure,
that the lady had no idea at all.

Don't leave us, Teresa, she begged her; always come to visit us. Your words are for
we a balm, although we do not understand them well yet.

In attention to Teresa, she had made herself available to attend the service that morning and was heading to
ali poor and needy, longing for something stable in this world so full of illusions.
And something stable was indeed offered to him, right from the first words read.
by the pastor: "The mercies of the Lord are the reason we are not consumed,
because His mercies have no end. They are new every morning and great is His
"Lamentations 3:22 and 23."

With this treasure in her heart, Mrs. Vieira returned home, constantly repeating those
words not to forget.

- It is perhaps just a spark that fell into his soul, Teresa reflected; but she did not lose the
hope, because I knew the most loving Savior of the lost sheep, who, "to
"the trodden path will not break, nor extinguish the smoldering wick" ...

Looking hopefully to the future, I saw new flowers blooming from a life that was almost extinct.
By a poor and unhappy lady receiving in her heart the love of Him who said: 'Behold, I make
tudo de novo." E Ele o havia de fazer - Ele que transforma a morte em vida.

When Mrs. Vieira entered her husband's room, he, raising his eyes to her,
she asked him shyly:

Isn't everything over?

No, my dear, everything is not over. 'The mercies of the Lord are the cause of
we are not consumed, because His mercies have no end, new every
morning and great is Your faithfulness.

A smile lit up the face of the unhappy patient and he murmured: "Our Father who art in heaven"
Heaven - forever, Amen!

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05- Lift Each Other's Loads
I can't wait any longer, I need my money, and if you can't
If you don't pay, I will declare the mortgage due and I will sell the property, said Mr. Martinho.

- In this case, I know, said Mr. Bonilha, that it will be sold at a great loss and, despite
All my efforts, my family and I will be on the street. It's very hard and I
I wish you had to earn your money like I do; then perhaps
If only he could understand something of the painful life of a poor man.
Identify yourself once with me! I believe you should have a little more patience.

All the conversation is useless; I have already waited a year and I cannot wait any longer, he replied.
Mr. Martinho, returning to his desk, where he continued to write.

The poor man slowly rose from his seat and left sad and downcast.
Mr. Martinho's office. His last hope was shattered. He had just
recovered from a long illness that had consumed all his savings
how he intended to pay the last installment. It is true that Mr. Martinho had already
expected for a year, during which, due to illness in the family, it had not been possible for him.
to pay the due installment, and he felt very grateful for it. But this year he himself
I had been ill for seven months and unable to earn anything, so that
it was necessary to spend your savings to provide for the family's livelihood, and it was thought that
now unable to fulfill its commitment. Would naturally have to start over.
Had God perhaps forgotten him and abandoned him to the mercy of the wicked?

After leaving Mr. Martinho's office, he began to meditate on the


observation that Mr. Bonilha had made to him: "I wish that you had to earn your
money like mine.
incessantly in our ears: 'I wish I could identify myself once with you.' Then
having gone through everything once again in his memory, he put down the pen and said: "I believe that
this would indeed be very difficult for me. I think I should pay him a visit this afternoon and
see in what conditions your family is; the man awakened mine
curiosity.

Around five o'clock, he put on a gray wig, wore a rather worn suit and
he went to Mr. Bonilha's small house. Mrs. Bonilha, a pale woman with an appearance
exhausted, appeared at the door. The poor old man asked for permission to enter and rest a while.
little, pretended to be very tired from a long journey she had made. Mrs.
Bonilha pleasantly invited him to enter and offered him the best seat.
furniture that he had at home, after which he went to prepare the dinner.

The old man watched him closely. He noticed the fatigue in his steps and movements.
and the discouragement that was etched on his face, and his heart sank deeply
moved. When her husband entered a little later, a slight smile appeared on her face.
she passed it over her lips and she was trying to appear cheerful. The traveler noticed all of this and
he admired this woman, who out of love for her husband displayed a joy that in
funding didn't feel. After setting the table, there was only bread and butter on it.
and tea, the guest was invited to have dinner with them: "We won't be able to offer you much
thing; a cup of tea, however, you will agree after a long journey.

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The old man accepted his hospitality and, while honoring the simple meal, induced-
unnoticeably talking about their circumstances.

I bought this plot of land cheap, said Mr. Bonilha, but instead of waiting until
had saved enough money to build the house, as he should have done,
I thought I could borrow some hundreds of mil reis. The interest I would have to
Paying would not matter as much as the rent I needed to settle in.
every month, and in this way I could save something. I didn't think that the
the refund of the money could cause me some embarrassment. However, in the first year,
my wife and a son fell ill and the expenses exceeded the income, so that
nothing was left to amortize the debt. Mr. Martinho agreed to wait another year,
if I wanted to pay you the interest, which I naturally did. This year, however, I have been
for seven months unable, due to illness, to work and earn something.
When, therefore, the deadline for making the payment is reached, which will be very
briefly, I will not be able to pay.

- But, said the guest, wouldn't Mr. Martinho decide to wait a little longer?
What if you told the lord about your circumstances?

- No, replied Mr. Bonilha, I was at your office this morning and failed to reach you.
respect; he, however, said that he needed your money, being in this case forced to
to give up the mortgage.

He must be a man without mercy, observed the guest.

Maybe not, replied Mr. Bonilha; the issue is that these wealthy people do nothing.
they find themselves in the plight that poor people face. They are like any other people and
I am convinced that if they had the slightest idea of what the poor have to endure,
they would open their hearts and their bags. You know that the saying has become proverbial:
If a poor person is in need of help, they should turn to the poor. The reason is simple. Only the
the poor are the ones who know the difficulties of poverty; they know how hard it is to move.
the heart of men, and, to use my favorite expression, they know
identify with the unfortunate and understand their situation; for this reason, they are always
to render assistance, as much as they can. If Mr. Martinho had the most superficial
the idea that it was, of what me and my family have to go through, I believe I would prefer
waiting some years for your money to squeeze us like it is doing now.

One can imagine how attentively the guest listened to the reasons of his host. A
a new world unfolded before his eyes and he experienced a feeling that he had never felt before
in his life he will experience. Soon after finishing the meal, he got up, and
In saying goodbye, he cordially thanked for the hospitality that had been extended to him.
poor people invited him to stay overnight, telling him that they would gladly give him what
they had. He, however, thanked and said:

I don't want to take advantage of your kindness. I think I can still reach the first village.
before night and I will have then advanced my journey a little more.

Mr. Martinho could not reconcile sleep that night: tossing and turning in bed.
I remembered the events of that day. I had learned something. In my
thought had always linked the poor with imbecility and ignorance, and

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Now I had to experience that soon the first poor family that had
visited exceeded greatly in civility and intelligent sympathy the high modern society.

The next day a boy came to that house and delivered a letter in a large envelope.
blue, intended for Mr. Bonilha. Mrs. Bonilha received it very excitedly, because at
your eyes the blue envelopes had some relation to the laws and the authorities, and
thought he couldn't hold anything good. Putting it aside, he waited until the husband
he returned from work to hand it to her. He opened it and read it silently, then said,
a moment of contentment

Thank God!

What is it, João? asked Mrs. Bonilha.

- Good news, my woman, replied João; - news like I never expected it.
yes, with something I would never even have dreamed of.

What is it? Tell me right away; I want to hear it too, if it is indeed something good.

Mr. Martinho paid off the mortgage and remitted the debt, interest, and principal to me. He says that if
If you ever need help, turn to him.

Oh, how happy I am! This gives me new hope, said the happy woman; but what is it
What happened to Mr. Matinho?

I don't know. This seems very strange after the conversation we had yesterday. I will go.
immediately to be with him to tell him how happy he made us.

Mr. Bonilha went to Mr. Martinho's house and expressed to him with warm words his
gratitude.

What made you show such kindness to me? he asked.

I followed your advice, replied Mr. Martinho, and tried to identify myself with yours.
situation. You will be surprised to know that I was that poor traveler who...
who showed so much kindness yesterday.

Devera? exclaimed Mr. Bonilha. Is it possible? How did you manage to disguise yourself like that?
mode?

He wasn't that disguised, but you wouldn't have been able to connect Mr.
Martinho, the rich lawyer, with that poor traveler.

Well, that was a good sermon you gave us, said Mr. Bonilha; good in more than
a meaning. It ended very pleasantly for me.

- I was amazed, Mr. Martinho said, by the long visits you receive from men.
and of his actions in general. I thought I was much ahead of you in condition and
education; but how meager and selfish my views were compared to yours! Your
Wife is a noble woman and her son would make any father proud. I tell you, sir.

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Bonilha, the lawyer continued vivaciously, you are rich, richer than the
could turn money; you have treasures that cannot be acquired with gold. The
Sir, you have no obligations towards me. It seems to me that I have lived longer.
a few years since our interview yesterday. What I learned in your house is worth more than
what mattered was your debt and now I am the one in debt to you. I will make an effort to follow up
always this motto: "Identify yourself with their condition, and seek to accommodate your own to it"
actions.

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A Painful Lesson
Ana, a young and graceful woman, was sitting by the window of her house, which overlooked
the garden. On her face, a look of sadness was drawn, which did not correspond at all to
your cheerful and festive environment.

She had been married for six months; she owned a beautiful house and had a husband who
he consecrated a burning and pure love. However, at that moment, he was not considering this.
happiness. Dark clouds passed through your mind, due to a first and slight
disagreement between her and her husband. Marriage undoubtedly introduces many changes.
in the life of two spouses, it does not bring about a sudden transformation of hearts and
of character. This is how Ana brought many of her whims into married life and
stubbornness. These whims had found fertile ground in the family home, where she,
as the only daughter of her father, who had become a widower early, she was accustomed since childhood to seeing
satisfied all your desires.

It was just a light cloud that threatened the marital skies, a cloud that
a determined resolution, from a sensible heart, would have easily dissipated.

That morning she expressed to her husband the desire for him to come home earlier.
to together make some visits long planned. "This will not be possible for me
today," he replied, "a promise I made and that I must fulfill,
will take all my time today." Ana, who was very interested in making visits,
considered it a lack of attention. Understood that she should have had more regard for her desires and
expressed this feeling in energetic words, which gradually became
acerbas.

Her husband said nothing to her. After lunch was finished, he left the dining room, waiting
still in the corridor the usual farewell expressions of the wife, but ... silence
glacial! Once again returned from the stairs. In vain! No goodbyes, not even a glance
she kindly dismissed him. Thus he left, for the first time, without his wife
had made the usual farewells.

Ana, however, did not feel well; she refused to heed the voice of her conscience,
seeking to persuade everyone around that he was in his right.

Sitting by the window, she remembered the sad event of that morning, when she was
a visit was announced. It was Aunt Berta, the only sister of her mother, who had been around since very early on.
had played the role of mother towards her. - How much I appreciate your presence here,
Dear aunt; I feel very unhappy.

- Unhappy? ... you!? exclaimed the aunt.

Ana then recounted to him the incident of the morning; how her husband had been stubborn and
unforgivable towards her. 'But I got my revenge,' he added; I did not say goodbye to her.
costume and I did not accompany him to the garden gate.

A slight cloud passed over your aunt's face, and turning to Ana, she said: "No
I think your husband deserves such an unfavorable judgment. If someone else had said this, you would be

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the first to defend him. Your husband seems to be within his rights, if he did not allow himself
refrain, for a whim of yours, from fulfilling his promise.

Ana was about to cry because she hadn't received her aunt's support. She decided nothing more
to talk about and settle the accounts with the husband when she returned at night.

They then headed to the garden, where, sitting in the shade of lush trees,
Ana began to narrate to her aunt her marital happiness, as if she had forgotten that
breakfast.

- Ana, her aunt suddenly interrupted her, I'm going to tell you a story. It's a sad story.
it is painful, but in any case it will be good for you to hear it.

- Oh, said Ana, I will be very happy to listen! It reminds me of the time when I was still
child and listened to the stories that the lady told me. But, if it's a story of
painful memories, it might be better not to tell them.

I carry the pain with me, the aunt replied, whether I tell you or not. But I will mention it to you.
this painful experience of my life for love of you, and you will come to understand the reason.

As you know, your aunt was thrown, your uncle was killed in a railway accident.
when I was still a child.

Yes, Ana replied, although I have never heard her refer to that sad
event.

- The train, continued the aunt, that was supposed to take him back one afternoon from the bank house, in which
he was employed, crashed into another. There were several victims and my husband was one
two who immediately succumbed.

- How horrible! exclaimed Ana. How could you endure such a blow? I think that
I would have died.

Pain doesn't always kill, the aunt replied with a sad smile. The one who gives it to us can.
also grant us the strength to endure it. It was, however, another thing, the aunt continued;
it was something that many years later still made my heart bleed.

Even now it pains me to linger on the memory of this fact and that's why I will narrate it to you.
in a few words.

I was then, my daughter, like you, a stubborn and willful woman, who liked to
to satisfy your will. My married life was very happy. Although I loved
much to my husband, I was not able to sacrifice my stubbornness for my love. Certain
This morning we had an altercation. It was something insignificant. It was about planting, in the
garden, some climbing plants for which I had already chosen the place. My husband does not
agreed with me on the choice I had made, presenting several reasons, indeed just.
We began to discuss reasons, and it wasn't long before my stubbornness, in its most
it was outraged, he conquered the land. My husband had to leave for work. Still the
I see how, hesitating to leave, he awaited my farewells. Approaching...
She, throwing her arm around my neck, said: 'Give me a kiss and make peace!'

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I did not feel strong enough to say a word to him. I didn't even look at that.
dear face, that I would never see alive again. I still heard its steps.
when he left the garden, closing the gate. Once again he looked back, I, however,
I didn't even give you a nod. Oh, dear Ana, what I felt that afternoon when you...
They brought him dead, I cannot express it! There was that dear face, so beautiful
and radiant with peace, now hardened by death. 'Give me a kiss and make peace,' was the
what he would tell me in the morning, still feeling the strong embrace with which he held me.
Now your cold and motionless arms lay crossed over the heart that had ceased to
pulsar. Her cold lips no longer responded to my burning kisses of
regret. It was I who was now waiting in vain for an answer.

The great pain I suffered and the most bitter thing it involved, regret,
They diagnosed me with a serious illness. When I recovered, the thorns
they covered my husband's grave. I still remember it as if it were today, when, still
weak, I went out to the garden for the first time. Some summer roses were still blooming,
favorite flowers of my husband, and in a corner lay the dry branches of the vines that
they had been the cause of our disagreement.

- But, dear aunt, said Ana, bathed in tears, how was it possible for you to endure everything
this?

It was indeed a long and sad suffering, my daughter, but my aide was
He who does not break the bruised reed and does not extinguish the smoldering wick. I had
also the consolation of seeing my little boy grow and develop, presenting
ever greater resemblance to the father. But now I must go, my dear. Before
"say goodbye to me, but promise me not to forget what I told you."

Nunca! replied Ana, from the bottom of her heart.

How impatiently Ana awaited her husband's return that afternoon! And how much her anticipation grew.
your anxiety, when he did not show up at the usual time! Finally, when he arrived, it was
indescribable is your joy at seeing him safe and sound again. Instead of a settling of scores,
A sincere and humble confession of your shortcomings restored the original harmony.

Laborious times, of afflictions and cares, also occurred over the course of time,
at Ana's house. They came, however, to find the two spouses united for the fight. And still
many years later Ana could say to her aunt: "Since that memorable visit, I have never again
I argued with my husband, and when we have to part, even if it is for a few
hours, the farewells are so intimate and affectionate, as if they were the last ones
we would exchange.

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07 - The Fatal Lie
It was winter. The sun had just disappeared on the horizon and the shadows of the night
it was already hovering over the village.

Alone in an old armchair, near a crackling fire, a certain woman


age, with silver hair, followed with a distracted gaze the last rays of the day,
while your thoughts wandered into memories of the past.

Suddenly the door opened and quick footsteps were heard.

So! Did you have a lot of fun, Bertinha? said the elderly lady, putting her hand
affectionately on the golden rings of the girl who just entered.

Oh!, Aunt Rute, she replied, and now I come to ask you to tell me one of your beautiful stories.
stories.

Berta was an only child. A few months earlier, she had lost her mother. Now she was visiting home.
from aunt, from whom I had learned to win affection. But Aunt Ruth was very perceptive and that is why
had discovered a great flaw in my niece.

With great sadness, she realized that the child had no scruples about lying.
and that even when exposed, did not blush with its lies.

Now, if Aunt Ruth had a special horror for any sin, it was certainly for lying;
He resolved, therefore, to correct it, as much as possible, of this defect, and promised to try it in this.
that same night, with the help of the Lord, showing him the ugliness of his sin.

Come on, take your crochet, my dear, she said to her, and come sit by
mim.

The child obeyed, and when she was comfortably settled with her aunt, she began to speak.
in the following terms:

You know, Berta, I am currently old and my memory is starting to fail me. Despite
I remember very well a story that I'm going to tell you.

In my youth, I walked to school with a girl named Ana Clara; it was


tender, kind, sensitive, and at the same time very studious.

She tried to befriend me, but I resisted her. I had no


friendship because she was my rival; if it weren't for her, I would be the first in the
our class. Poor Aninha didn’t know what to attribute my coldness to.

I, although raised by Christian parents, often made an effort to do harm to


my companion; incited others against her, and since she was very shy to
As a defender, I almost always triumphed.

One day, in class, we were spelling the word brought. With his weak voice and
meiga, Aninha spelled out: t, r, o, u brought, x, e, ex, brought.

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"The teacher, not having heard well, exclaimed:"

Bad! Forward.

But suddenly going back, he said to her:

- Didn't you spell: t, r, o, u, c, e?

"No ma'am," Aninha replied, "I said: x, e, xe."

The teacher still doubted, and turned back to me:

- Route, how did Ana say?

A diabolical thought crossed my mind; I saw myself as the first in my class,


and I let myself be dragged into evil and uttered an odious lie.

- Ana said c, e, ce, I replied without hesitation.

The teacher turned to her; confused by my accusation, my


companion lowered her head in silence, while a sudden blush gave her all the
appearance of a guilty person.

- Ana, the lady said sternly, I did not think you were a liar. Go sit down.
in that corner, and at the end, of the classes, wait for me.

I had achieved what I desired. Ana had fallen out of favor, and I was proclaimed the first;
but was not happy.

When the lesson ended, I pretended I had lost something and stayed in the room. And I heard
the voice of the master:

- Ana, come here.

I then heard the light footsteps of my companion.

- How could you lie like that? the teacher continued.

- I didn't lie, my lady, replied the gentle child.

But the sound of the voice, the tremor that took hold of it, seemed to contradict her words.

- Give me your hand, said the teacher.

I need to tell you, Berta, continued Aunt Rute, that in my time, children were
more severely punished than today, so I was not surprised to hear
to fall into the little innocent girl's hand the repeated blows of the cruel paddle. Ah!
well you can look at me in astonishment, Berta. Every blow went to my heart; I,
however, I didn't have the courage to admit my absence. I gently slid out of the room.

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On returning home, I saw Aninha, who was walking slowly, and with one hand she was holding
the books while with the other wiped the tears that were running down her face. Her
broken solutions pierced deep into my soul. She walked like this
crying, when suddenly, hitting a large stone with his foot, fell,
spreading his books across the floor. I picked them up silently and handed them to him.

Her blue eyes, wet with tears, fixed on me, and with a sweet voice
kind, she said to me:

- Thank you, Rute.

My heart was pounding violently; but I did not dare to speak to him; I entered
hastily at my house.

When I got home, I thought that, since everyone was unaware of my absence, I
I could laugh and chatter as usual. But alas! this did not make me less
heavy is the burden that oppressed my heart.

I had no need for a human accuser; the gaze of God was pursuing me.

But the more disturbed I felt, the more I tried to appear happy; to such an extent
so that several times during the evening I was reprimanded for my noisy joy,
when I could barely hold back the tears.

Finally, I withdrew to my room; I couldn't pray; I quickly lay down and closed
resolutely the eyes.

But sleeping was impossible for me! The old clock of the house made my poor...
heart with its prolonged vibrations, and when midnight struck, it seemed to me to hear
fold the deceased.

I turned, I turned back over the pillow, but it felt hard as a rock.

Those beautiful blue eyes flooded with tears were constantly before
But my ears would not stop hearing the repeated blows of the cruel.
palmatoria ... Finally, unable to stay in this state any longer, I jumped below the
I lay down and went to sit by the window.

"Everything had a sad and sinister look that froze me."

The trees rose dark and motionless, and they seemed to me to be of an unmeasurable height.
There was nothing, not even in the white bars and the paved alleys, that did not seem to me to have...
something strange.

Again I headed to my bed and saw the white quilt that my mother had given me
on New Year's Day, a few months before dying.

"In that same moment, a multitude of thoughts came to my mind. I remember"


from that last plea my mother made on my behalf: 'O Lord! Awaken in
my dear Ruth, the sincerity and the wisdom that come from above!' This memory

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she haunted me; I tried in vain to drive her from my memory; she pursued me
unceasingly. I melted into tears, but the tears did not bring me peace.

Increasingly agitated, I finally decided to go to my father's room and,


throwing myself onto your bed, I exclaimed sobbing: Daddy! oh daddy! ...

I could not say more. My father took me in his arms, leaned my head against his.
he sought to calm me; when he partially succeeded, I confessed to him the reason for the
my tears. Oh! how he asked the Lord to forgive his Rutezinha!

- Dear father, I said to him, would you like to accompany me now to the house of poor Aninha?

- Now?! he repeated very surprised; let's wait for morning, my daughter.

"Every delay was a true agony for me; however, I made an effort to have"
patience, and after having embraced my father, I returned to my room; but the eyelids
fatigued could not close.

I longed to go ask Aninha for forgiveness; with all my heart I sighed for the day, and then
having waited in vain for a few minutes, which seemed to me long as hours, I was given
impossible to resist the voice of conscience any longer; then, plunging again into
my father's room, I begged him to take me to Aninha's house at that very moment.

- Ah! I murmured without really knowing what I was saying, if she died before having me
forgiven!

My good father looked at me with concern; he placed his hand on my feverish face, and
After reflecting, she said to me: Alright, I will accompany you, my daughter.

A few minutes later we were on our way.

As we approached Aninha's house, we saw several lights crossing in every direction.


the senses in the house. Trembling, I approached my father.

He opened the gate quietly, and we entered in silence.

The doctor, who knew us, was leaving the house at that same time.

Your astonishment was great to see us there at that hour; but how shall I describe what
sofri, when he told my father that Aninha was having a stroke!

- Your mother, the doctor continued, told me that a few days ago she wasn't feeling well, although
she wanted to go to school as usual; but it seems that she returned yesterday afternoon
completely changed. Couldn't have dinner, and sat at the table without saying a word.
Since she seemed sad, her mother tried to find out the reason; but it was in vain. In the end the
poor child went to bed, and about an hour later, they called me. Since then not
I left her, and I think her condition is very serious.

- In his delirium, he repeatedly uttered the name of Ruth, added the doctor looking
for me; with a pleading voice, she begged him to have pity on her and to save her.

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Oh! Berta, may you never feel the piercing remorse that coursed through my heart upon hearing
these words!

By force of pleading, I obtained from Aninha's mother permission to see her for a moment. The
the widow took me by the hand and led me to her daughter's room.

"Since I saw her, I lost all hope; the shadows of death seemed to already veil her"
beautiful forehead and his blue eyes.

Dismayed, trembling, I knelt by the foot of your bed, and murmured words of
regret.

I raised my eyes to her as if to beg for forgiveness, but alas for me! No, Berta,
from your lips I should never hear a word of forgiveness again!...

When I saw Aninha again, she was asleep.

Their faces would no longer be colored by that vivid flesh tone that animated them in the days of
health and her long brown eyelashes cast a funeral shadow
on your marble face. There was no more delirium, there would be no more palpitations of
heart. That little white hand that she had presented to the blows of the paddle, was
together with the other. Your eyes should no longer fill with tears, your bosom, no
but should be gasping with anguish. ...

She was sleeping the sleep of death!

My pain was alive, my despair immense!

I could not forgive myself for having contributed in some way to, by my
indignant lie, to bring down this sweet child to the grave.

How long was the winter that followed! The fever seized me right after these
moral suffering, and in my delirium, I endlessly called out for poor Aninha.

However, the Lord heard the prayers of my dear father and raised me from the bed of pain.

When spring sowed flowers on Aninha's grave, they allowed me to be


visit her.

I cannot say how painfully moved my heart became when over


on the white marble I read these words:

ANA CLARA

I knelt by the grave, and I prayed for a long time to the Lord to grant me
forgive.

From that moment on. Berta, I felt relieved, strengthened, and comforted.

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While pronouncing these words, Aunt Rute tenderly placed her hand on the head of the
niece. For a long time, Berta had been feeling moved, and now she was shedding burning tears.

Your aunt didn't try to calm her down, because she expected that these tears would be beneficial for her.

Ask for me, dear aunt, murmured Berta.

The aunt lifted fervent supplications to Heaven for her dear niece.

Berta never forgot that evening; because a ray of divine light had just
to penetrate into his soul.

The falseness appeared to her in its true aspect, and she felt the need to
to seek the help of God. Aunt Rute did not regret having thus evoked the more
sad memory of your past, seeing the good that resulted from it, because this
charming girl, whose mouth had been stained so many times by lies, had become with
to grow in age a model of sincerity, of truthfulness, and of uprightness, as they should
be all the boys and girls who want to serve Jesus, -From the Friend of Childhood.

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08 - A Sacred Vote
One afternoon some old sailors had gathered around a table, entertaining themselves
to recount their experiences and adventures. The best peace reigned among them and
harmony. Only one of the attendees, Captain Sutter, refused to take part in
drinks. When it was his turn to share some of his experiences, he stood up and
said:

Comrades, not wishing to appear to you as a somewhat unsociable man, I see the
my refusal to associate with you in drinks, I will tell you how I came to
this abstinence, to which I owe the position I currently occupy.

I was very young for the sea and by the age of sixteen I was already accounted for one.
seasoned sailor. He was then a cabin boy aboard a large sailing ship heading towards
to the Indies. Our crew consisted of fifty-two men. We, the
cabin boys, we lived, so to speak, isolated from the other sailors, and we had our
separate table. The commander wanted it that way, as he was a very just and honorable man.
more than an extreme rigor regarding the service.

We were so young, we had already acquired many bad habits. What was most easily
what we learned was to drink; for that we took advantage of every leave we could get,
often returning on board in a deplorable state. The only thing that constituted in
exception in this regard was a cabin boy named João, whom no one could persuade to
to take a drop of alcoholic drink. He also enjoyed the full trust of
our commander, who often had him close by. When he disembarked,
he used to take him with him and on board he taught him many useful things. João knew how to take
benefit from all these advantages; for us, however, it was becoming an object of hatred
and envy. The admonitions and pleas that he directed at us, eager for us to abandon the
our path, we received them with contempt, chasing him and beating him where the
the opportunity presented itself to us. He endured everything with admirable patience, but gradually
it was distancing itself from us.

After all, we made the devilish resolution to force João to get drunk, and in order to be able to
to execute our plan with more security, we began to treat him with friendliness,
paying him all the attention.

Our ship returned through Brazil, taking eight days in the bay of Rio de Janeiro.
One morning we all got permission to jump ashore. This caused us much greater
pleasure when we thought the moment had come to prove to our commander that the
your favorite was not better than us. João had promised to have dinner with us that day, and the
the occasion could not be better; this time I definitely would not escape.

We sat down at the table, tired and hungry. When the wine was served, however, João not only
he opposed our requests as he even gestured as if he wanted to get up from the table. Then the
our hatred knew no more limits. We called him a sycophant who lived to intrigue us
with the commander in order to enjoy all the advantages and privileges at our expense. A
a moment or blush rose to his cheeks, in the face of such unjust and undignified accusations.
However, containing himself, he said with firmness and serenity:

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Comrades, in light of what is happening here, it is no longer possible for me to remain silent about what I wanted.
to have in secret. My story is brief. My life has been unhappy since the cradle. My
father, a diligent and good man, became a slave to the vice of drunkenness, in
as a consequence of which, my mother and I often find ourselves exposed to the rigors
from hunger and cold. With what fervor she prayed for her wretched husband!

When I became older, I had to beg, covered in rags and walking barefoot.
through the snow. How my heart ached with pain when I saw others, well-fed and
well bundled up, rejoice in life! Surely your parents must have been men
sober and good as mine was, I thought to myself. Under these circumstances
I am eight years old. On a very cold and stormy winter night.
we waited in vain for the return of my father. At dawn my mother sent me to
to look for him in the tavern. On the way, I came across a body that lay stretched beside the
road, covered in snow. I leaned over it and wiped its face: it was the face of my
father, who was dead.

"At a cry for help, two men from the tavern came to me and helped me."
transport him home.

Comrades, I cannot describe the anguish of my poor mother! In a lament


with sobs she threw herself onto her husband, as if wanting to communicate with him with her
burning love and warmth and the life that had escaped him. All the suffering that he had
causalities in life seemed at this moment forgotten. The men withdrew and my
mother waved to me to kneel beside her, in front of my father's corpse:

- My son, he then said to me, you know the cause of our misfortune. There was no man
more noble and honorable than your father; you see what has been done to him. Promise me today, in
presence of God and before the corpse of your unfortunate father, yes, promise me here, in this
place, where you will never take a drop of the terrible poison that plunged us
in misery.

Comrades, I made this promise to my mother and God is my witness that I will never
I still violated it. After my father's death, my mother and I, thanks to the help of some
pious neighbors, we had a less bad winter. In spring, I was already able to earn
something for our livelihood; after all, I got this position on the ship, and now I usually
I always take some money when I go to visit her, but not for all the gold and silver.
from this world would violate my vote, and I am sure, comrades, that from now on it will not
They will try harder to persuade me to drink.

With these words, João approached the door. One of us, however, stopped him and said,
moved

Wait, João, don't go yet. I also love my mother and wish to see her happy. Don't you
I want to be a bad son; from now on I promise not to drink a drop more.

Give me your hand, friend, we all exclaimed and, forming a circle around João,
we promise to all follow your example. So we immediately ordered paper and ink and
we drafted a contract in which we agreed to refrain forever from
alcoholic beverages, and we all signed it.

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I must confess that we have never felt as happy in our lives as we did that time.
moment.

In the afternoon we all returned on board. The commander was waiting for us with a frown.
He knew well our habit of indulging in excesses when we entered into
drinks, but what was your astonishment, seeing us return on board, safe and sound
behaved!

Boys, I said, why are you all so good today?

Show him the contract, I whispered into João's ears.

The commander scanned him with his eyes and his facial expression took on a look of
moved tenderness.

Give me this paper, friends, he said; while you observe what is written here,
they will have in me a dedicated friend; and, shaking hands, he seemed very happy and
satisfied.

From that day on we began another life. João was no longer an object of hatred for us and
out of envy; continuing ahead of us, he instructed us, making us progress rapidly
in our career.

When we left our good commander, we all got good jobs. There are three
We were all gathered together again and by the grace of God none of us had
violated your vote. We were all commanders of good ships.

This is my story, Captain Sutter said to his old friends who had
listened to with great interest, and now you will not take it badly that I abstain from drinking
with you. I have ample reasons to proceed this way.

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09 - What Should I Believe?

In the United States of North America, atheism had not many years ago a
energetic defender in the person of Colonel C. This man openly stated that the
religion was madness, there was no God nor life after death. Not satisfied, however,
to feed these convictions, he made an effort whenever the opportunity arose
Advice, to also persuade others of the incoherence and absurdity of their beliefs,
always finding, due to his position and his manners, by the way, amiable,
who willingly would listen to him. Thus years went by.

It happened, then, that his daughter, whom he loved very dearly, became ill.
seriously. The most renowned doctors were consulted, including Dr. L., the physician of
family gave the most diligent care to the sick person. In spite of everything, however, the
the disease was making its fatal progress, seeming to mock all efforts
humans. One day the colonel invited the doctor for dinner. After the meal was finished,
they both retired to the office, where, just upon their arrival, a servant announced to them that
The nurse wanted to speak to them immediately. The patient's condition had suddenly worsened.
Excited, the colonel approached the bed where joy lay.
pride of your soul. The sick woman took him by the hand and said to him in a pleading tone: 'My
father, I feel death approaching; tell me, what should I believe: in what you taught me,
or in what I learned from my mother?
would miss the opportunity to instruct his daughter in the truths of Christianity and to lay the good
seed in your tender heart.

The colonel seemed turned into a statue. Such a question, in the presence of death, and
coming from the lips of his idolized daughter, he did not expect. His eyes fixed on the
moribund, only the muscles of her face were contracting, revealing the immense struggle that
it was stuck deep inside him. Once again, his daughter asks him that question, in a tone
from insistent pleading. Suddenly that statue comes to life and, murmuring between its lips:
"Believe in what your mother taught you," the colonel leaves, with a hesitant step, the room of
sick.

Arriving at his office, he collapsed exhausted into an armchair. God had served Him.
two powerful feelings of your paternal affection to break his pride
heart. Never before had he recognized how vain the assertions of human reason were.
important to satisfy and reassure a soul at the extreme moment. They do not resist
before the Almighty. The death of the daughter determined a decisive change in life
of the colonel.

My dear reader, are you also willing to face death? Can you confront it without
Are you afraid? Oh, don't let yourself be misled by frivolous reasoning! Come to Jesus, don't...
despising the time called today. Abandon the winding paths of sin, whose
the end is perdition; hurry, come, and accept salvation!

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10 - Unforgettable Words
Did you verify this account, Mr. Ricardo?

Yes, Mr. Silva.

Is it correct?

I found you two mistakes.

Yes? Let me see.

The boy handed the boss an extensive bill that had been given to him for verification.

There is a calculation error against them of ten cruzeiros, plus another of ten cruzeiros.
in the end.

Also against them?

Yes sir.

The merchant flashed a somewhat impudent smile, which did not fail to
impress the young bookkeeper.

- Twenty cruzados against them, he repeated with a look of satisfaction. They must actually have
trusted bookkeepers.

Should I correct these mistakes? asked the young man.

No, sir, let them correct their own mistakes. Let's not rectify accounts in
taking advantage of others, replied the merchant. There is still time to rectify them after
They have discovered it. The profit will be greater if the account stays like this.

The boy's sense of honesty and righteousness seemed to be wounded by this observation.
unexpected. He was the son of a poor widow, who had taught him to consider the
honesty as one of man's first duties. Mr. Silva, to whose service he
he had been for some months, a close friend of his father and a man in whom he
he placed all his trust. He had looked at him as an exemplary man,
regarding a high privilege to be in the service of such a respectable person.

"Let them correct their own mistakes!" These words had an impact on Ricardo.
deep impression. When Mr. Silva uttered them, he, as we have already said, was very
disappointed. Meditating, however, more on the case and trying to relate those
words with someone who was so highly placed in the concept of their own mother,
he finally thought that from a commercial point of view, the business might be lawful. Mr.
Silva could not be a man capable of injustices.

A few days after Ricardo checked the account, a man appeared.


establishment, requesting its verification. Ricardo, who was present, waited
with anxiety that Mr. Silva would mention the aforementioned mistake. However, he did not say anything.

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He said. Demanding a letter regarding the importance of the bill, he required a receipt. "Is this fair?"
Ricardo asked himself repeatedly. His sense of integrity told him
but no. The fact, however, that Mr. Silva acted this way confused him
Notions of law. "It is possible that this is customary in commerce, however I do not think so.
honest. I didn't expect such a thing from Mr. Silva.

The natural kindness of Mr. Silva won the heart of this young man, who felt ...
this constrains me to perform all my tasks with the utmost care and precision.
"Quisera somente que ele houvesse retificado aquele erro," dizia Ricardo muitas vezes
of itself for itself, when thinking about the happiness it had, of being placed in Mr.'s house.
Silva. "The business does not seem honest to me, in any case it is possible that this is customary.
in commerce.

One day I was assigned to go to the bank in order to cash a note. When counting the
money that he had received, he verified that the payer had given him fifty cruzados
most. He immediately returned and warned him of the mistake. He thanked him very much, and Ricardo
returned home firmly convinced that he had acted well.

The payer gave me fifty cruzeiros too much, he said to Mr. Silva, when he
delivered the money.

- Really? asked this one with a smile of contentment, and eagerly set to
count the banknotes. However, upon reaching the last one, he furrowed his brow and, hardly
Concealing his disappointment, he said: "Well, he didn't give you anything too much, Ricardo."

Ah! I have already returned the fifty cruzados to you. Wasn't it fair?

Inept! exclaimed Mr. Silva, do you not know that banking errors cannot be corrected? If the
if the payer had given you fifty cruzeiros less, it wouldn't have fallen on you
reminder to correct such error

The shame was evident on Ricardo's face at this reproach. It happens many times.
that a person is more ashamed of a mistake than of a crime. At this moment the
The young man experienced a kind of annoyance because of his behavior, which Mr.
Silva classified it as incompetence. He decided within himself that, if the bank were to...
if I ever gave a thousand cruzeiros too much, I would hand all the money to the boss and leave him
to be with him.

Let men correct their own mistakes,


Silva, and these words were never forgotten by the young man. They had produced
about him a very strong impression to be forgotten. "It is possible that it is right,"
he said to himself; nevertheless, he didn't feel very satisfied.

A few months after this incident, Ricardo was counting the salary he had received, and
he realized that Mr. Silva had given him two thousand cruzeiros too much. His first impulse
it was to return this money to the boss, and I was just about to speak to him in this regard when
the unforgettable words came to mind: "Let the men correct
"they themselves their mistakes," which made him hesitate. "I think," said Ricardo,
keeping the money in the pocket, "what is fair in one case, must also be so in

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Mr. Silva does not correct the mistakes that others make in his favor, and should not.
for this reason, to be astonished that this same rule is also applied to him.

The boy was, however, far from having a calm conscience. Deep down he was
convinced that it was unfair to keep that money. But he could not bring himself to
give it to him, and even less now. Keep it, then, and spend it on amusements. Soon
later, however, he remembered that Mr. Silva might have wanted to try him out and
a certain restlessness took hold of him. After some time, Mr. Silva returned to
make the same mistake. Ricardo, without hesitating for long, pocketed the money.
"Let him correct his own mistakes," he said resolutely; "it's how he..."
act with others, so you should not complain if someone pays you back in the same way
coin. I really need this money.

From then on, Ricardo's noble and just feeling was dulled. It had given way to
in your heart there is a bad advisor, awakening the spirit of ambition, which stirred up
in her the desire for possessions that were out of reach of her wallet. Ricardo had
excellent skills, and by his knowledge, diligence, and business acumen made quick
progress, therefore granting Mr. Silva the rank of major at the age of eighteen
responsibility in his establishment. Ricardo, however, had also learned something
but with your boss, in addition to making advantageous deals. He had learned from him to
disregard honesty in matters of profits, and he would never forget the lesson that his
the boss had given you in this art.

I had already practiced it in hundreds of houses and almost always to the detriment of Mr. Silva.
I didn't even expect more until mistakes were made in their favor, but I created them.
himself in the different and complicated businesses of a large establishment
commercial, with which he was perfectly familiar. Ricardo had become
sagacious, astute and clever, always on alert, ingenious and ready to fend off
any suspicion and prevent the discovery of their unjust actions. Along with their
the boss enjoyed the highest regard. This continued until Ricardo reached the
20 years old. It was then that the merchant's suspicion was aroused by a letter in which
It was said that Ricardo did not take care of the interests of the house and that he depended a lot on money.
for an employee who earned a modest salary. Shortly before, his mother had
occupied a beautiful house, for which he paid a rent of 30,000 cruzeiros. His
ordered, however, did not exceed 80,000 cruzeiros; nevertheless, his mother persisted in
he claimed to receive a salary of 120,000. He provided his mother with all the comfort
possible, making her believe then that, after a long and laborious existence,
They had promised her happier days.

Ricardo was sitting at his desk when Mr. Silva received the mentioned letter.
Glancing at the boss, he noticed how pale he had become. He then observed that
read the letter again and that its content made him uneasy.

Mr. Silva cast a quick glance at Ricardo's secretary and their eyes met.
They crossed paths. It was only a moment, but that look made his blood freeze in his veins.
But a few other movements that you noticed in Mr. Silva that day were enough to
to leave the guy terrified. He was sure that the letter had raised suspicions about his
boss. How much he regretted now the wrong he had done, due to the fear it caused him.
your discovery, for this would be your dishonor and ruin, and without a doubt would lead to your
mother in the grave!

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You're not feeling well this afternoon, said Ricardo's mother, noticing his expression.
altered of the son and that he almost did not eat.

My head hurts, was his answer.

Maybe it would be good to sleep a little.

I will lie down for a moment on the living room sofa.

Mrs. Lima followed him shortly after and, sitting beside him, put her hand on his.
front. Wouldn't it be, however, the tender pressure of that mother's hand that would alleviate
the sufferings of Ricardo. On the contrary, the contact of that pure hand first gave him
it further increased the anguish.

Aren't you feeling better yet? asked Mrs. Lima, after having set down something.
I hold your hand over the child's forehead.

- Not much, he replied, and getting up, he added: I think a walk in the open air...
reading will do me good.

Don't go away, Mrs. Lima said, feeling a vague unease invade her chest.

- I will only walk a few streets. With these words, Ricardo left the room.

"Isto é mais que uma dor de cabeça," refletiu consigo a Sra. Lima. Durante uma meia
Ricardo wandered aimlessly through the streets with no determined destination; he couldn't
endure the presence of the mother. Finally, found himself in front of Mr.'s establishment.
Silva was amazed that there was still light in it.

What would that mean?


soul. He put his ear to the door and the windows, but he couldn’t hear anything. 'Must
"there must be something," he thought. "But what could it be? If this is discovered, what will happen?
About me? I will be ruined! Oh! my poor mother!

The unhappy young man walked away from there almost frantic and after having traveled further
some streets of the city, returned home. His mother went to greet him at the door, inquiring
apprehensive about your state.

I feel better, he said in a tone that barely concealed his anguish, addressing
depressed in her room. When, the next morning, she greeted her mother at lunchtime,
this felt a lively restlessness at his exhausted appearance. He ate in silence and did not
he heard what was being asked of him. Suddenly the doorbell rang. Ricardo trembled and
listened anxiously.

- Who is it? asked Mrs. Lima.

A gentleman who wishes to speak to Mr. Ricardo, answered the maid.

Ricardo immediately stood up and, withdrawing, closed the door behind him. Mrs.
Lima, sitting at the table, was waiting for her son to return. Moments later he came back, but

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not to the dining room. He then heard once again footsteps in the hallway and the opening and closing of the
front door. Then everything fell silent. Quickly she got up and went to the
corridor; Ricardo was not there; he had left with that gentleman who had come to pick him up.

Mr. Silva had spent half the night reviewing Ricardo's books, having
embezzlement of eighteen thousand cruzeiros was discovered. Mad with indignation,
mandara logo gave an authority in order to arrest him. It was with this authority that
Ricardo had left home, leaving his mother, with whom he would never again be.
"That rascal will pay me," Mr. Silva said, full of anger, and he tried
immediately report it.

At the time of the trial, he presented against him such a large sum of
evidence that the court had no other recourse but to condemn him. His mother was present.
In the courtroom and during the breaks, one could hear his sobs. The judge, addressing
to the accused, asked him if he had anything to claim in his defense. All eyes
they turned to the pale young man, when he, with an effort, got up
leaning against the railing by which he was standing, as if he needed support.

I request the presence of my accuser so that I can see him and Your Excellency.
jointly.

Mr. Silva was invited to show up where the young man was. Ricardo fixed his gaze on him.
for a few moments with a questioning look, then turning to the judges,
said:

What I have to say is this, he began with a slow and clear voice, and it may be that this
I somehow mitigate my crime, although I cannot justify it: I entered into the
establishment of this gentleman as an innocent boy, and if he were an honorable man,
I would not be before the court today as a criminal.

Mr. Silva turned to the judges to protest against such a statement.


injurious. However, they signaled him to be quiet. Ricardo continued in a firm voice:

A few weeks after I had joined his establishment, I was taken by him.
charged with verifying an account, and I found a mistake of twenty cruzeiros in it.

Mr. Silva blushed.

I see that you still remember, Ricardo continued, and I have my reasons not to.
forget him while I live. The deception was in favor of Mr. Silva. I asked him if I should
Correct the numbers and I got this response: 'No, let them correct it themselves.'
your mistakes; we do not rectify accounts for the benefit of others." It was the first lesson of
dishonesty. I saw how the bill was paid, with Mr. Silva withholding the twenty cruzeiros that were due to him.
they did not belong. At first, I was perplexed; it seemed very unfair to me. Soon
afterwards, however, I was treated by him as inept for having returned to the payer of a bank
a 50 cruzeiro note that he had given me too much as a discount on a bill and
so ...

I ask for the protection of the court, said Mr. Silva.

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Is what this young man is saying true? asked the president.

Mr. Silva was embarrassed and his vision blurred.

All eyes converged on him, and judges and jurors, lawyers and spectators
I could perfectly tell that he was the one responsible for the ruin of this unfortunate young man.

- Not long after, Ricardo continued, when I received my salary from


Last week, I noticed that Mr. Silva had paid me two thousand cruzeiros more. I was about to
to return them to him, when I remembered the observation he made to me: "Let them be
"men correct their own mistakes," and said to myself: "Let it be that
"he also corrects his own mistake," and I kept the money. This was the
first step on the path of crime, and now I am here. If Mr. Silva had used
give a little charity and mercy to me, I would have kept silent and would have had nothing
said in my defense.

The unfortunate young man covered his face with his hands and sat down, overwhelmed by a strong
emotion. His mother, who had approached him, broke down in strong sobs and,
leaning over him, with her hand on his head, she said:

My son, my poor son!

Few eyes in that room had remained dry. In the midst of the silence that
Mr. Silva, turning to the judge, asked him;

Is it permissible for my honor to be thus outraged by the declaration of a criminal?

A solemn oath on your part, denying this accusation, could rehabilitate you.
the judge replied. It was the boy's only opportunity and the court considered it a duty.
of humanity to hear it.

Ricardo Lima stood up, and turning to Mr. Silva, his face pale, in which he
he/she expressed deep sadness, said:

Let him swear, if he dares to do it.

Mr. Silva spoke with his lawyer and withdrew. After a brief consultation with
the jurors, the president of the jury, addressing the accused, said:

Considering his youth and the temptations he was exposed to in past years, the
the jury decided to issue the lightest possible sentence - one year of cell prison. But
Let me seriously warn you not to proceed down this path. A crime cannot have
reasonable justification. It is unfair before God and man, and it only causes grief.
When, after serving your sentence, you are released, let it be with the firm
purpose of preferring to die rather than commit an injustice again.

And so this sad episode in the life of that young man came to an end. When, a year
then, leaving prison, his mother was dead. He had never seen her again since the
the moment he lost sight of her pale face as she left the courtroom.

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Ten years later a man found himself engrossed in reading the day's newspaper in a city
distant. His face, sad and grave, indicated he was a man experienced in
afflictions and sufferings of life.

"Finally, it fell into the hands of justice," he said to himself, while the blood he
he climbed to the faces; 'condemned for fraudulent bankruptcy, and thrown into prison.' This is the end
of a man who in my childhood gave me the first lesson in the practice of
dishonesty.

But praised be God, the other lesson was also equally beneficial to me. 'When the
Sir, if set free, let it be with the firm intention of preferring to die rather than to commit
an injustice.' I kept this warning in my heart and with God's help, I there
I will keep it until death.

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11 - The Price of My Last Cigarette
My first cigarette gave me a horrible headache. All of my
comrades had tried to persuade me of this, but since they considered me as a
extraordinary boy, I thought I would make an exception to the rule and not have to endure such
consequences. The experience that followed quickly convinced me of the correctness of their
predictions. However, I had often heard my mother say that they were
great efforts and perseverance are necessary to make a man, I presumed that this
it also implied such effort, so I persisted in the attempt until at the age of twenty I had already
I had become an inveterate smoker, but weakened in strength like my grandfather, and still
more nervous than him.

I got married at twenty-three. Physically, I was an annihilated husband. The request for
my doctor, who told me that I would leave my wife a widow if I continued
another year in bureaucracy and with this abominable vice, I took my wife and daughter and left.
to the far west, where some of my friends had already preceded me some
time before. I rented a farm five kilometers from the city - a farm with good woods and
abundant water, which promised me excellent business. My health was once again
reestablished in such a way as to allow me to work from morning till night. Luíza was
good woman and excellent companion; and our little daughter, who at the time of my last
the cigarette was just beginning to babble, it was the Sun and the joy of our home.

After three years of delay, I had sixteen hectares of corn and eight of wheat.
besides great pastures. Our little house was very picturesque and well arranged;
the first shack I had turned into a wheat barn. When I informed Luíza
what the doctor had declared to me, she, without answering my question, if she was ready
to leave father, mother, and friends to go with me in search of a new homeland in the distant
the west, would say:

Yes, Jorge, I will go with you wherever you go, and I will do everything that is for your good, with the
the condition that you now renounce smoking forever.

This condition that she proposed to me was sacred, but I sought to avoid it.
meanly, responding to him:

I will not spend another penny on cigarettes.

This was nothing but a despicable subterfuge, a subtlety that they usually resort to.
slaves of smoke and alcohol to prevent them from being forced to break at once
with addiction.

During the three years I was there, every time I went to the city and someone offered me a
cigar, I never refused it, and when Luíza reproached me for it, I would respond to her:

I only promised you not to spend any more money on cigarettes.

On an autumn day, after a rainy summer, which had followed a drought.


extraordinary, we headed to the city. Our path led through a
extensive savanna, measuring about two leagues in circumference, of a monotony
absolute, which was not broken by streams, nor by trees or simple shrubs,

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and whose grass, that had never been trodden by the feet of any animal, was inflammable like
a strand.

A little time before, I had taken the necessary precautions to protect our ...
house against the possibility of a savanna fire. Surrounding it is a tract of land,
and the return of this a little removed from the same, another ribbon of a few meters in width,
destroying by fire the grass that remained in between.

What a cheerful group we formed, the three of us! Our horses, spurred on by our shouting,
I am racing towards the city on this clear morning. It is true that our
the carriage was not one of the most modern. However, we knew how to cushion the jolts,
covering the seats with thick blankets. The child was in its cradle.

Having done our shopping and having had dinner with our friends at
the merchant of whom we were customers, we set out at five o'clock in the afternoon
from home. Our car was full of goods, among which a jar of molasses, a can of
kerosene and a small barrel of water to quench our thirst during the crossing of the savanna.

At a certain distance from the city, Luíza said to me softly:

You smoked again, Jorge.

- Yes, I responded in a bad mood, but it didn't cost me a penny. The fact was that the use of
smoke, which I was no longer used to, had left me nervous and irritable, and
Moments later he added: Will I have to be tortured all my life like a boy?

Luíza did not say a word, but her visible anguish irritated me even more.
She occupied herself with soothing the child who was tired and grouchy, laying her down.
then in the crib that was behind me. While I rocked her, a demon
someone inspired me to light up a cigarette that I still had in my pocket. When
Luíza returned to take her seat beside me, having to turn her head so she wouldn't be seen.
thank you for breathing the smoke of this fatal cigarette.

I was impatiently waiting for you to say anything, because I already had at the tip
an impertinent response from the tongue; however, she kept silent. After having smoked
about half of the cigarette, I threw it away.

It's the last one for now; you should know that it didn't cost me a penny, I murmured.

However, I started to feel a shiver running up my back when, moments later, I saw that
a slender column of smoke was rising from the place where I had thrown the stub of
cigarette among the dry grass, but soon we found ourselves quite far from that place, from
luckily, I don't think about it anymore. Aninha was sleeping, peaceful in her cradle, and Luíza was watching over her.
by your side. After a few moments of silence, I heard her say in a soft voice:

You traded your honor for pleasure, but you will pay dearly for it.

My conscience was arguing with me. I saw, in thought, before my eyes a happy young woman.
that for the love of me would leave everything he loved, and I for a cigarette had betrayed the

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the trust that she had placed in me. But I didn't have the courage to confess this to her.
thinking and to implore his forgiveness.

Engulfed in my thoughts, I even forgot that Luíza was there.


my side. We were only half an hour away from our house when, suddenly, it started to
a strong north wind blew that even made us tremble. I made for the horses, I set up the cradle
in front of us and covered the child and Luíza with a shawl. When I was about to continue
journey, a dreadful noise sounded in my ears; it was not a storm that
it was unleashed, but a crackling and threatening noise that could be heard from afar, behind
we.

It's a hurricane! exclaimed Luíza.

Ah, if it were only this! But I knew that noise perfectly. It was the sound of
a savanna fire. Soon we could also distinguish the flames, which advanced towards
we with astonishing speed, leaving behind the most indelible traces.

Jorge, it’s a savanna fire! Run quickly and set fire to it, or else
we are lost!

Luíza quickly took the reins, and the frightened animals, to whom instinct told that
death was coming after you, they galloped with fury, while I was rummaging in vain
my pockets. I had spent the last match to light the fatal cigarette, which
had caused this horrible fire!

I don't have matches! ... Luíza ... May God forgive me ... can you forgive me?

Oh! How could I describe the anguish of that moment! I will never be able to forget.
the infernal torments that I suffered and the remorse of conscience can inflict on a
soul.

I am not considering this now, my beloved; it was not your fault, you did not intend this.
we are now close to death. May God forgive us both. Ah, but my
little Aninha, will she also succumb?

A tremor of horror passed through my entire body, as a mortal sweat


I was bubbling from the faces. I observed the fire approaching, but I was incapable of a
reflection. Suddenly Luíza exclaimed:

There is still hope to escape, Jorge. Let us quickly spill the water and the molasses.
about the blankets and let us take refuge in that prominence where the grass is not so high.
But we can lie down inside the car and wrap ourselves in the wet blankets.

Suddenly we found ourselves in the right place. We unhitched the frightened horses,
who cast a compassionate look at us, then disappeared while we were lying down
the liquids in the blankets, part of which we spread in the car, covering ourselves with the
restaurant.

The roar of the flames was deafening; the smoke began to envelop us, the air
was impregnated with ashes, and the flames rose high above us. Already

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we had lain down in the car, wrapped in blankets, when Luíza suddenly
got up and, taking the can of oil that we had forgotten at our feet,
threw it far away, with a vigorous motion. But before she could fully return
Under the protective cover, the sea of flames and smoke had reached her.

It seemed to me that a century had passed in this hell that I myself had prepared.
For my guilty soul, it was as if it were the day of judgment.

After all, the heat subsided and the smoke was diminishing. When I stuck my head out, I saw the
devouring flames that were already far ahead of us. The sun looked like a
inflamed sphere enveloped in smoke.

Oh Luíza! I exclaimed, seeing my wife slowly rise beside me.

- Yes, Jorge, I am alive, she replied: her voice, however, was hoarse. Immediately she
leaned over the crib, I took the blankets off Aninha; she wasn't moving. I thought
that was sleeping.

Aninha! Aninha! We call to you, lifting the child, but there is no sign of life!

Rubbing the little body, we tried to call her again, but in vain - she was
death. Tortured and contrite, I dragged myself forward, carrying the corpse of the
my daughter, pursued by an accusing voice that incessantly told me: 'You are the
guilty!' while my wife, with a pale face, walked beside me, me
consoled

- Jorge, I love you like never before, I am happy because you have been preserved for me; do not
aflijas, it was not your intention to set the grass on fire.

The fire was seen by some people in the city who came to our aid. These
they lent us their horses; and the Sun was disappearing on the horizon when we started to
descend the hill that was overlooking the small valley where our was situated
house. But nothing else could be seen, the house had been reduced to a pile of rubble! Our
the cattle and the horses, which were completely exhausted, were the only signs that
still pointed to the site of our primitive Eden.

Luíza had long been between life and death; her health was undermined; her
lungs had breathed in an excessive amount of hot air, and the shock of the fright
it made a very deep impression on your chest. I believe it will never leave you again.
I would have recovered if it weren't for the love of me, for I would have finally accused myself of having
was also his killer.

No child's voice has brought joy to our lonely home since then, which we have...
to establish in a place far away from the one that evoked the painful memory
of what my last cigarette had cost me.

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12 - The Ways of the Lord
Along a beach, on the coast of England, between the cities of Norwich and
Yarmounth, a father was walking around accompanied by his four-year-old son.

I am hungry, said the boy.

Shut up, you bastard, his father replied.

Yes, I am hungry and I feel pain, the boy continued.

Don't you be quiet? Rascal! Is it possible for me to get you bread here among the stones and sands?
from the beach?

A shiver ran through the boy's body, who said nothing more, because the father
he had spoken to him in a blunt and rude tone and his eyes had a strange glint.

The two walked, silent, side by side; the boy with his head drooping.
on the chest in order to hide from his father the tears that flowed from his eyes. In
the father's heart was troubled by dark thoughts. He struggled in vain to maintain
the balance, for, as was his custom, he was drunk and staggered with every step
what gave.

Suddenly, the boy burst into loud cries; he had not been able to contain himself; the
the violence that had been done to repress the pain had only increased it. "Bread!" exclaimed the
boy, "I want a piece of bread!" The unnatural father, however, seized by an outburst
in fury and despair, he took the boy and with all the strength of his arm threw him to
sea, withdrawing hastily.

By a remarkable coincidence, which the world calls chance, as if by a


empty word of meaning if one could explain what the Christian does not doubt in considering
As divine providence, a plank was floating beside the boy, which the unfortunate one
could grab hold, being soon pushed away from the beach, driven by the wind or by the movement
the waves.

Not far from the beach, a war vessel was anchored, from whose edge was spotted the
a child who, holding on to the fragile wreckage, was being driven towards the ship, at risk of
to be torn apart upon meeting it. Will the child be allowed to perish? No.
Is there no one willing to save her? Such thoughts had only occurred
time to penetrate the spirit of seamanship, when a sailor had already
thrown into the sea, bringing the boy aboard with a life-threatening risk, where he was soon by
everyone interrogated.

My name is Jacob, the boy replied, but besides that, I could not advance anything that could
to clarify the garrison with respect to the family to which he belonged. It was therefore resolved,
keep him on board, where everyone called him "poor Jacob."

As if he were a peaceful and gentle genius and furthermore very servile, he soon did not take long to
to win the affection of everyone. He was considered by all as an adopted son,
constituting for all a point of honor not to let anything be lacking to him. After

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many years of study, Jacob obtained a position in one of the war vessels as
Royal Navy surgeon. He conscientiously fulfilled the functions of this
cargo during the long war between England and France.

On one occasion, having captured a small vessel, the ship to which he belonged,
several wounded were taken on board who entrusted themselves to the care of surgeon Jacob.
Among the wounded, there was also an elderly man whose injuries appeared to be fatal.
Nevertheless, our conscientious surgeon dedicated the highest level of care to him.
All your efforts, however, were in vain.

Feeling that death was near, the elder wished to give the surgeon a testament of
gratitude, and requesting a few moments of attention, spoke to him in these terms:

You have shown me such kindness that I feel compelled to


to give you the only treasure I possess in this world. And, handing you a Bible,
a devout lady gifted me this Book that opened my eyes
about my miserable condition and freed me from my criminal passions. In this
Bible I found the way of salvation, the forgiveness of my sins through Jesus Christ, the sweet
peace of my heart, which lived so long tortured by unspeakable regrets, and the
consolation in the days of my misfortune.

Here the old man interrupted himself. An unbearable secret seemed still to weigh down on his soul,
but the shame of confessing it was struggling with the need he had to
to unburden the heart. This struggle, however, lasted only a few moments. Then it began to
narrate with a slow, deep voice all the disorders and wickedness of your life,
referring among others to how he had thrown a four-year-old child, his own, into the sea.
son, for having asked you for food.

- Oh God, could this be possible? exclaimed the young surgeon, whose movements and
Astonishment grew as the old man continued his narration. Could it be possible
Will we see each other again in this world? Tell me, he continued, holding the old man's hand,
In which part of England did this happen?

Between Norwich and Yarmouth, the elder replied, who did not understand why the
the young surgeon felt so moved when asking him such a question.

And how long ago did this happen?

About twenty-three years ago, the elder replied.

And wasn't that boy named Jacob? interrupted the surgeon, who could hardly...
counter.

- Jacob! Yes, that was his name! exclaimed the old man, with growing astonishment.

My father, bless your son! exclaimed the surgeon, throwing himself to his knees before the bed.
of the dying. Bless your son! It was God who brought us together again, who wanted to put
before my eyes the example of your conversion, and of your pure hope.

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For a long time the elder remained silent; he couldn't believe his own eyes, he thought
in the possibility of a dream that was to be followed by bitter disillusionment. Little to
little, however, he was gathering his ideas and asked the young officer to report to him the
details that still reminded him. He was finally convinced that it was indeed
your son whom he had before him and tears of joy flooded his face, about which
the shadows of death were already looming; and, like Simeon, he exclaimed: "Now, Lord, you dismiss"
in peace your servant.

He passed away on the same day, in his son's arms, giving thanks to God.

This unexpected and admirable coincidence made such an impression on the young man.
surgeon, who shortly after resigned from his position in the navy to dedicate himself to
preaching of the Word of God.

And it happened that, having a servant of the Gospel recount this story in a meeting
Religious, he turned to his director and said: "I am that poor Jacob."

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13 - The Poor Washerwoman
I'm almost about to put this blanket in the dirty laundry as well. It's true that I haven't yet.
It needs to be washed so much, but I think I will also send it to the laundress.

Why, then, do you want to send it to be washed if there is not yet much need for it to be washed?
she said to her aunt in that calm and expressive way of speaking.

- Why? Aunt, because today I have very little clothes, so little that Suzana will be
ready before two o'clock, and since I have to pay him the same as if he had worked
until tonight, that's why ...

Listen for a moment and reflect a little, the old lady said kindly.
Suppose you were in the conditions of poor Suzana, forced to stay by the tub of
clothing for six days of the week, to meet the most urgent needs of life
daily: would you not be happy to be able to return home once before the
night, to dedicate a few more moments of the day to your loved ones or even to
rest? It is already hard for a woman to be forced to work as a newspaper seller to
earn your livelihood; do not want to deprive her of the enjoyment of a less arduous day. It is
today is already the fourth day that she gets up in the dark, going through the cold from here to there, aiming
to serve your customers; let them go home as soon as they are ready. It is even possible to
that has a dear sick person at home and is anxiously counting the hours and minutes until
to be able to return, perhaps fearing to arrive late. He lays the blanket over the bed and comes to sit down.
next to me; I will tell you the story of a poor washerwoman to whom it happened as she went
happening to Suzana today, giving her clothes to wash unnecessarily, for the reason
of having been little.

Upon hearing these words, the old lady took off her glasses and wiped away a tear that had formed.
he closed his eyelids, and with a trembling voice began:

There may have never been a happier marriage than that of Ada R. No one could.
looking more hopefully towards the future. Linked to the man of her choice, the man of whom
could take pride, no one perhaps had the perspective of a happier life than
that Ada R.

This happiness lasted ten years. Their home was comfortable and beautiful and the young husband
he continued to be so loving and kind as when he was engaged, reaping new
riches in the position he held, and using his earnings to surround the family with
all the possible comfort. Besides these blessings, God had granted him yet another:
a small crib was next to your bed, where a beautiful boy was smiling
blond hair, the perfect image of your father, and which was the most precious thing that
had in this world.

I do not want, however, to linger longer over those happy days; for our
the story has as its purpose to deal with very diverse matters. It happened to Ada and her husband as
It often happens to many: when the cup is most pleasant to them, it is snatched away.
a series of misfortunes and mishaps that followed quickly, took everything from them,
leaving them only love and the little child.

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They were still all gathered together, and this gave them new courage. Changing to
a distant city, there they began once again to grumble about their existence. Diligent and tireless
they dedicated themselves to the fight for life, and once again fortune seemed to smile upon them, but only for
little time; soon after the shadows of adversity fell upon them again.

"Ada's husband fell ill and on the bed of pain he dragged his days, tortured not
not only for physical pain but also, and especially, for soul sufferings,
experiencing all sorts of deprivations. Everything that was within Ada's power she
was trying to do faithfully, trying one thing and another, in order to provide for the subsistence of the
family. She, who had been taken to the altar wearing a silk dress, could now be seen
next to the laundry tub to earn a daily bread.

During a very sad winter, she found herself forced to get up every day before the
early morning to go to work, often having to walk through the snow to get to
dark and smoky kitchens, and then helping to clean and wash, often succeeding it.
I would stretch the clothes under his hands when he tried to hang it on the line. And when
As night fell, with his meager salary, he had to look for his again.
path through the snow to your cold and dark dwelling, because the pay wasn't coming
for light and heating of the room. And with what anguish she crossed every night the
door threshold, fearful that it would come late! It had been six weeks since I had seen him again.
husband and the son in the daylight. How happy she would have been if once in a while
had been able to come back sooner!

On a very cold morning, aunt continued after a brief pause, when Ada
she was preparing lunch, her husband suddenly called her and said to her:

Dear Ada, could you come today earlier than usual? I really wanted to see you.
again in the daylight. Are you coming, right?

- I'll do my best, she replied, paling with fright.

- I have an unstoppable longing to see your face in the light of day. Today is Friday;
Since last Saturday I have felt this longing; I can no longer wait until tomorrow.

- Do you feel worse? she asked anxiously, taking his pulse.

- No, no; I don't think so, it just seems to me that so much time has passed, and I believe I cannot
wait.

With what satisfaction this woman would have responded to her husband's desire! With what
she would have really stayed until the light of day came to brighten the small room; but
it wasn't possible. The urgent need forced her to leave. She reached the kitchen of
customer, and there he remained in anxious expectation, waiting for the laundry basket. A smile
he brought it to his lips when he checked its contents. Until four o'clock he could
to be ready, and perhaps even by three. Love and fear communicated to him new vigor in his arms,
Five minutes before the clock struck three, she was hanging the last one on the line.
a piece of clothing, and she was about to empty the tubs when the housewife appeared with
two blankets and said: 'Since you had little laundry today, Ada, you could still wash these two.
pieces. 'Only the housewife disappeared, a scream of anguish came from the lips of

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Ada. By harming herself, she tried to calmly return to her work.
It was finally getting dark when he was able to run home - he was arriving late.

At this point, the aunt interrupted the story in a fit of sobs, continuing after
a little break:

Your husband was agonizing, and death was approaching quickly. With great effort
still expressed to her some words of love, and the longing he had to see her once more.
see your face, which now he was no longer able to see because the shadow of death had come upon him.
he was dozing off. For an hour his head rested still leaning against his chest
then expired.

Oh, Maria, then added the aunt, moved and pleading, be kind to your
washer! instead of trying to increase your workload for the day, try to reduce it.

Few women go out to work unless compelled by extreme necessity.


No woman imagines, on the day of her wedding, that something may be reserved for her.
such luck, and when she makes use of this profession, it is almost always as a last resort.
Also your laundress, who now does this heavy work for you, was not always at the tub.
of clothing. She also experienced better days. One can read her story in the lines.
pale and sad from your face. Be kind to her, pay her what you owe, and dismiss her so
logo as soon as possible.

- It finished early today, Suzana, said D. Maria to the washerwoman, when she entered the room to
receive your salary.

Yes, ma'am; and this takes a great weight off my shoulders. I was afraid I would have to stay until the
It's night, and I have such a need to be at home!

Is someone sick? kindly asked the old aunt.

Tears slid down the washerwoman's face as she replied:

Ah, lady, I left my little boy this morning almost dead. I know that sadness.
stamped on the boy's face, for it is not the first time I've gone through this pain. And
nobody is with him except a nine-year-old boy. I have to go now at all
press. She took the money, hard-earned while at home the little son
he was agonizing, and he left quickly for his poor dwelling.

Soon after, the two ladies, one young, having not yet known any care
seriously, the other already elderly, having her hair whitened by the cares of life,
They entered the hovel of the drunkard's wife and approached the boy's bed.
dying. Suzana had not arrived late. The boy had still recognized his mother.
He passed away at midnight and kind hands received his lifeless body, closed it
the eyelids, straightened his limbs, washed him, and dressed him in a shroud
white. Even more, the two women had tears for the poor washerwoman
sympathy, which is a very rare privilege of the poor.

Oh, aunt! said Maria with tears in her eyes; if only my heart...
bless, as much as Suzana's! If it weren't for your advice, she would have arrived

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Good afternoon! This was a very sad but sacred lesson. I will never forget it. But, auntie,
Is the story you referred to true?

Your sad reality whitened my hair ahead of time, when I was counting
just thirty springs; and your memory is the most distressing of my recollections. It is
Is it to be wondered that I felt compassion for the poor washerwoman?

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14 - The Widow's Mite
In the winter of 1846, I set out, accompanied by H. W. Hawkins and Mr. Carlos Jervett,
in the city of W. ... where we intended to hold some conferences and organize a
temperance society. The weather was splendid and the sledding road was magnificent.
The conferences, which were very well attended, received enthusiastic acceptance. The people
came from a great distance and we had the pleasure of organizing a society with
considerable number of members.

On the first day, when Mr. Hawkins spoke about the miseries and afflictions that
they determine the alcoholic beverages, I noticed a middle-aged woman with an appearance
modesta, who cried inconsolably, as if overwhelmed by great sorrow.

At the end of the conference, she was one of the first to present herself to subscribe.
the name. Only she put down the pen, returning to her place, I cast a glance over
the paper to see what was written. It was a shaky, yet clear and elegant handwriting;
the name that would decline on the paper was Berta Morrison.

Poor woman, the newly elected president said to me when I asked him if he knew her;
she had very hard and sad luck. In times past, she was the most beautiful and funny girl
from this locality. She married Tomás Morrison, a handsome and intelligent young man, who is from
but above all she had a good heart. She was a sailor, and for some time she seemed
happiest of the happy. However, the demon came and happiness disappeared. She had a son who
was born into misery and shame. Tomás was gradually degrading until, finally, he died.
like a drunkard. Her son abandoned her soon after and went to sea; the last time she had
news of him was thought to be in a distant city, where he lived dissolutely. He did everything
possible to save him, but in vain; he was too far away and besides he had evaded so much.
that could not figure it out. However, it is not completely lost yet.
He sent her money several times. Once, having met someone in New York
who was heading here, sent him with that person the last shilling he possessed and
embarked for the Indies.

The president would have referred to me even more, however, his attention was demanded by the
businesses they were about, while I contemplated what I had heard.

Last Saturday night we had our final conference, at the end of which we raised a
collected. I was watching exactly the widow at the moment when the tray passed by.
note. I noticed that you first directed a few words to the collector, then launched into a
coin on the plate. When he returned to the pulpit, I asked him what Mrs. had said to him.
Morrison.

He confessed to me, he said, with tearful eyes and a trembling voice, that he was giving the last
money he had and that he hoped God would bless him. He had kept
this coin, because it had been sent to her by her son. It was an English shilling that he had given her.
remained like the last thing he had left.

I then asked him if he would be able to find the said coin among that money.
He answered me that yes, because it was the only one of its kind that existed on the plate, and soon
then she handed it to me. It was new and shiny, engraved with a knife point, on the side of the
crown, the initials D.M. I gave him in exchange a silver dollar and kept the widow's coin.

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I appreciated her not only because of the touching sympathy that the widow revealed for the cause, but
because I thought to employ her later in our conferences as testimony
eloquent in the spirit of self-denial.

This happens to me in winter; in the autumn of that same year, I was in Baltimore,
on a visit to the detention houses, where I sought to speak to the unfortunate who, as a consequence
the use of alcoholic beverages had been reduced to spending their days in these gloomy
dwellings.

- This is one of the most stubborn cases we have here, the guard said, pointing to
a man who, sitting in a corner, on a small bench, was busy in
braid a cable.

I positioned myself so that I could fix his face. He was still a young man, I could count his 22 years.
23 years old. His appearance was intelligent. He had been taken to prison for a month; the
traces of the terrible addiction had already disappeared and now showed a healthy appearance.
From your facial features, I could quickly judge that I had a spirit before me.
stubborn, yet he was sure that within that chest beat a heart
big and noble. I felt an irresistible attraction to that young man and, finally, I asked
The guard agreed readily that he could only talk to him. The guard consented gladly.
Meanwhile, I learned that this man's name was João Tompson, who was
a sailor who had been arrested for intoxication.

I entered the cell and the door closed behind us. After greeting him
gently, I sat down on a bench.

- Listen, friend, he said to me in a decisive tone and without the slightest embarrassment, if you came here to
to preach me a sermon, you were badly advised; I don't want to hear a word ... not even
word!

I replied to him then that I was not a preacher, but that I had been a sailor and an unhappy victim.
from drunkenness.

At first, his face seemed to take on an air of friendliness, but then it became cloudy.
again.

- In this case, did you come here to preach temperance to me? he said, in a tone of bitterness.

No, if you oppose that. In any case, I came to see if I can still discover you.
some land susceptible to nurture a good word. The lord was launched into
a deserted coast, that is all. Why not hoist the sails, correct the course and raise oneself again?
Look, it's not for lack of sea!

I then referred to an episode that happened to me on the deserted coasts of Sicily.


surprised by a heavy storm, from which I barely managed to escape, and then,
I asked him to mention to me in turn some of his experiences. I then had the opportunity
it is worth noting that he was not only endowed with rare intelligence, but also with feeling and
spirit. Little by little I encouraged myself to inquire from his friends and relatives, and I learned,
after some questions, that all of your closest relatives had died, with
exception, perhaps, of one, who was her mother. "That," she added, "may be possible that is

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now dead too and, if still alive, surely no longer remembers me." He was trying to
If speaking calmly and indifferently, it was noticeable, however, that his heart was beating.
quickly; his voice trembled and finally he rested his forehead on his hand.

Ah, I told him, you greatly underestimate a mother's love if you think that way.

I then told him, as an appropriate fact for the case, the story of the poor widow and her
offering. I spoke to him with feeling and anointing. He hid his face in his hands and through the
fingers ran tears to the ground. A shiver passed through his body, reaching
to such an extent their emotion, that I had to stop for a moment, but, recovering again,
I continued my story.

Where did this happen? he asked, in a low voice, after I had finished.

In the city of W...., I replied to him.

What is the name of the widow?

- It is Berta Morrison.

Didn't you say you had that coin with you? He raised his forehead, which was
pale.

Yes, I replied to him and, taking it out of my wallet, I handed it to him. He observed it with
attention and, turning it between his fingers, examined closely the engraved letters on the
Reverso. After all, your heart no longer fit in your chest. Bursting into a strong
sobbing, she exclaimed: "Oh, my mother!" She then said to me, in words choked with
solutions: "I sent you this coin; it was my last shilling. When I sent it to you, I asked for
God make him a blessing for my mother. I am here under a false name, I am
Donaldo Morrison. The sobs choked his voice. When he raised again the
head, extended his hands in a gesture of supplication and said:

Get away! Step back for a moment and leave me alone. Step back for a moment, I will
I ask you to come back later. However, please allow me to keep this coin.

I called the jailer and went out, narrating to him and the guard what had happened. Both
they were compassionate people and were deeply touched. Half an hour later I returned to
I found the prisoner on his knees. He stood up and, extending his hand, said:

I beg you not to speak to me about it again; I can't stand it, my heart is bursting.

But, I would dare to replicate it to you (because I had been encouraged by the guard), if it were possible for me.
take him out of here and restore his freedom, so that he could go wherever he wanted?

He held me by the arm and a ray of light illuminated his beautiful face.

Ah, if you could do this, I would be saved! You would restore a son to his
mother.

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In the afternoon of that same day, I went, accompanied by the inspector, to the judge who had...
sentenced and, accompanied by this, we went to the prosecutor's house, to whom I narrated my
history. A few hours later Donaldo Morrison was free. Upon leaving the prison, he took
my hand and said: "I know that I am entrusted to your care, I was informed of this by
I would like to go alone, however, I did not want them to know until I
had tried what I can be. You have restored my freedom and now I ask you to
trust me. I will write to you, I will keep you informed of everything that happens. Do you want
Trust me?

I trusted him and did it with pleasure, especially since to accompany him I would have had to
spend a week, and had urgent business to attend to.

Five years passed before I visited the city of W again. ... One day I got off.
I left the hotel and went in search of my friends. At the first corner, I asked someone.
sir could you inform me where the widow Morrison lived. She told me that she lived
in a country house by the edge of the lake, a little over a kilometer away from there.

- But, he added, it's unnecessary to go so far to find her. A few minutes ago she
entered that store, pointing out a business that was across the street and whose
a rich and elegant car was parked. Here comes she.

I looked over there and noticed a woman who, however, did not seem to be the one I
You will know her like Morrison. This woman was elegant and beautiful, still seeming
girl.

I thought it was Berta Morrison, I replied.

- Well, there she is, she replied to me, and here comes your son. You don't know ... I didn't hear the rest.
My eyes were fixated on the man who was leaving the store after the woman; it was one of the
most important figures I had ever seen. Their eyes crossed with the
my and he recognized me. For a moment he lost his composure, but quickly regained it.
a. Having helped the woman into the car, he turned towards me.

God bless you; after all, I have the pleasure of seeing you here. But my mother cannot see you.
Now, it would be much joy for her. Go to your hotel, as I will be there soon too.

I returned to the hotel, accompanied by that gentleman I had spoken to on the corner. I asked-
I knew Donaldo Morrison. He answered me that yes. If he could tell me in which
What are you occupied with now?

They're building a new city of W. ..., he replied to me. About five years ago, he rented
a small schooner with which he navigated Eric's lake. Little by little he acquired it by
buy and less than a year later acquired another. Today he owns three excellent steamers.
who sail the lake. Before an hour had passed, Morrison appeared at the door of the
my hotel and we went out together. The next hour was a true profusion of joy and
contentment; I can no longer remember all the details of that meeting. I just
I remember that we cried together like children, and that both the mother and the son, they
they cast upon my neck, declaring me the cause of their happiness and salvation.

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I spent an entire month at your beautiful country house by the lake. No
they allowed me to leave early, and even then only on the condition of renewing each time
summer my visit and, if it could be, more frequently.

I still have the widow's mite and the blessing of the Lord has rested upon the
many who wandered errantly on the road of sin and perdition were
by the imprint of your story, simple and touching, led back to the path of honor and
good.

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15 - Capital and Labor
John Griffith, a wealthy English industrialist, was seated on an autumn day in the room of
visit to your elegant residence. judging by the expression on your face, your thoughts are
they were occupied with things that gave them an inner satisfaction.

"The perspective, he said to himself, is that my rents will reach this year"
fifteen thousand pounds. That's already a fairly regular amount for someone who started their career.
as a poor boy. And I'm not that old yet. I just turned sixty! It's been over
a noble in the Kingdom who would be satisfied with the revenues of João Griffith. My
Catarina will have a beautiful dowry.

At that point, he was interrupted by a servant who entered the room.

Mr. Griffith, said the servant, there are three men downstairs who wish to speak with you.

Three men?

Yes, sir. They are not gentlemen, added the servant, who understood the question.
I think they are men from the mill.

Well, tell them to come up.

It was a holiday and the workshops were closed, so the workers were at
day off.

Heavy boots were heard on the stairs, and soon after three entered the room.
men, whose appearance revealed that they belonged to the class condemned to earn the
subsistence through hard and relentless work.

What is it about, my people? asked Mr. Griffith, standing up and staring at


Are the three newcomers interested? Are they employees of the mill?

- Yes, sir, said what was in front, Hugh Roberts; yes, Mr. Griffith, we are
mill employees, and it is for this purpose that we came to meet with you.

Very well, said João Griffith, resuming his seat, tell me what your desire is.

This is it, Mr. Griffith, and I hope you won't be offended by what we have to say to you. We came
humbly ask you for a raise.

Increase in salary! exclaimed Mr. Griffith, in a tone of displeasure.

Yes, sir, I hope you are not offended by that.

But do I not pay them a salary equal to what other mills pay?

It is possible, Mr. Griffith; but it is very difficult to live on three shillings a day.

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But if I pay them higher salaries than others, they will start to do me
competition in the market.

I don't know, sir, but I think we would work with greater pleasure and achieve more.
during the day if we had a little more to live, so that the woman and the children
did not need to be nearby and suffer from hunger.

These words were said in a manly tone and with utmost frankness, without any
emphasis; they seemed, however, not to have made any impression on Mr. Griffith.

It's just six pence more a day that we claim, Mr. Griffith, said Hugh
Roberts, pleadingly.

Mr. Griffith mentally did his calculation. He had three hundred employees. One salary
An additional six pence per day per person would amount to a total of two thousand pounds a year.
This reflection hardened his heart towards the supplicants.

- But, Mr. Griffith, said Hugh Roberts, think about what it means to support a family,
with three shillings a day.

- It's hard, no doubt, said Mr. Griffith. However, I'm not in a position to grant you the
order.

So, are you refusing us the raise?

- Of course. If you can get more elsewhere, I will in no way prevent you from doing so.
improve your situation.

We have no way to improve our situation, Mr. Griffith, said Hugh Roberts.
bitterness, squeezing the head between the hands. We have no other means of living, except for
working for the lord and receiving what he pleases to pay us.

Think well, my people, said Mr. Griffith, already in a better mood for having succeeded.
your goal, and they will see that I cannot pay more than other industrialists. I do not have
Doubts that the wives and children of the gentlemen will also be able to help them win.
something.

The three men left, with sadness written on their faces, considering life a...
heavy struggle that offered no pleasure.

Just as they had left, Catarina Griffith entered the room.

Having been born when her father was already of relatively advanced age, she was the pupil.
of her eye and the joy of her existence. It was for her love that he aspired to become-
be rich, in order to be able to arrange for her a match with the noblest, as he used to say.

"They will not pay attention to Griffith's lineage," he said to himself, "if his daughter
to present a dowry of about one hundred thousand pounds.

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Catarina was a girl of about fifteen, attractive and with bright eyes, who
with reason it constituted the pride of the father.

How are you, my daughter? said the father, smiling tenderly.

"I’m always fine," she said carelessly; "but, daddy, who were those men?"
Did you scold the poor people I found on the stairs?

What leads you to ask this, Catarina?

Because they seemed so sad and discouraged!

- Is it true? asked Mr. Griffith, with slight interest.

Yes, daddy, and I heard one of them sigh as if he was tired of living.

They are employees of the mill, Catarina.

And why were they here? For you to give them instructions about the work?

No, that is up to the manager.

Why were they here then?

You are truly curious, my daughter.

This is not what I asked you, dad, the girl said impatiently.

Well, if you need to know: they were here to ask for a raise.

And undoubtedly you granted your request.

No, my daughter, why should I grant it to you?

- Because they need it. How much do they currently perceive?

Three shillings a day.

- Only three shillings a day! exclaimed Catarina, and they have to support the family with this?

Yes, Catarina.

Oh! Dad, how can you pay such a meager salary?

I pay them the same salary that I pay the other manufacturers, said the father.

- But these poor men cannot live on three shillings a day. How much did they ask for?
increase?

Six pence per day.

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Only six pence per day, and dad refused them? said Catarina in a tone of
reproach.

- But consider, my daughter, if I grant this increase to all my workers,


this will result in an increase of two thousand pounds per year.

And how much is your annual income, dad?

I think that this year, Mr. Griffith replied proudly, I will have an income of nearly
fifteen thousand pounds.

And surely you don't spend all this, daddy?

My annual expense is budgeted at four thousand pounds.

And the rest?

The rest I reserve for my Catarina.

In this case, said Catarina, since it must be mine, pay these men one shilling more.
to the day, and there will still be plenty left for me. I would not wish to enjoy a money that
it was accumulated at the expense of so many poor people. Imagine, daddy, how much benefit this shilling
but how much it can do for these poor people and how little difference this will make for me! I will be
as rich as I wish to be. Come on, dad, you were poor once too. You should
to have compassion for the poor.

To these words Mr. Griffith recalled the difficult struggles of his youth, and the selfishness
your dealings with those poor workers deeply moved him, so that
unite your heart to that of your daughter.

- Are you serious about what you're asking, Catarina? asked the father.

Certainly, dad.

But if I do what you ask, this will make a considerable difference to your fortune.

- But I will feel very happy when I think that these men are enjoying
some comfort. Do you want to do it, daddy?

Yes, Catarina, the father replied; I will do as you ask. The other industrialists will have to
to think that I went crazy, if, however, I can please my Catarina, this does not
import.

I love you more than ever, dad! And the girl with a generous heart lay down
arm around the father's neck.

A servant was sent to the house of Hugh Roberts to invite him to come to his house.
boss. He was sitting silently and consumed by a silent rage in a corner of his
miserable shack, whose appearance denoted great deprivation and discomfort. Did not understand

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the invitation, but understood that he should go to receive his resignation for the boldness he had in
make that complaint. Again entered the room of your boss.

I have been thinking about the complaint you made to me, Hugh Roberts, said Mr. Griffith in a
kind Tom, and although I do not believe that any other industrialist would grant it to him, I
nevertheless, I was willing to help.

God bless you, sir, said Hugh Roberts, whose face suddenly lit up.
Heaven will reward you. So, from now on, we shall earn three shillings and
six pence a day?

They will understand four shillings.

Four shillings! Is this for real, Mr. Griffith?

Sure. The manager will receive my instructions tomorrow.

The worker broke down in tears; however, it was a cry of joy.

The men will bless him, he said with a smile, and these words had a sound
extremely pleasant to Mr. Griffith's ears. A blessing coming from the heart is not
to be despised.

The experience demonstrated that Mr. Griffith's business interests did not suffer.
with the increase in the salary of their workers, because they worked from then on
with better will. - Horatio Alger.

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16 - Cast Your Bread upon the Waters
- Oh Jacob! Now you see how all our hopes have faded! We are all old...
our children were taken from us by death, and it will not be long before we are
interned in some beggar's asylum. Where is now all that bread you cast upon
the waters?

The old man, with silver hair, fixed his eyes on his wife. He was hunched over from the weight.
two years and the ailments of old age were already announcing themselves. Jacó Mariano had been treated,
And while happiness smiled at him, he always had an attentive ear and an open hand for everyone.
the claims of suffering and misery. However, fate began to pursue her.
Of his four children, none remained; illnesses had gradually undermined his
health, and now he found himself reduced to the last poverty. A strict ban on
commerce that was launched about the ships, vibrated with the first blow, to which
Other misfortunes quickly occurred.

Jacob and his wife were completely alone, and misery knocked harshly at their door.

Don't worry, Suzana, said the old man. It's true that we are poor; but we are not
forgotten.

Aren't we forgotten, Jacob? Who will help us now?

Jacó Mariano pointed with a trembling finger at the sky.

Ah, Jacob! I know well, God is our friend, but we should also have friends here.
Earth. Think of the past and consider how many you have tasted your friendship! with hand
liberal you cast your bread upon the waters, but you did not recover it.

Shut up, Suzana, you don't know what you're saying. Although I was hoping for a helping hand...
he would guard against extreme misery, however he did not expect this as a reward for
anything I had done. If I helped the unfortunate in days gone by, I had
great reward in the awareness of having fulfilled my duty to my own
similar. Of all the charitable actions I practiced with those who suffer, I did not
I would wish for no money to obliterate a single one of my memories. Oh! dear woman, it is the
memory of the good one practiced in life, which makes the days of old age happy. I can
to still hear the words of gratitude from those I have helped, and to still see their
smile.

Yes, Jacob! replied the woman in a low tone, I know you have been good, and it is possible that you
I feel happy with your memories; but alas! we have to face the present and consider
the reality. We have to beg for food or perish of hunger.

The old man shuddered and a deep sadness etched itself on his face.

- Beggar! he repeated with a bitter tone, no, Suzana, let's go then. ... He
it was interrupted and a big tear slid down his face.

Where are we going, Jacob?

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Let's go to the homeless shelter.

- Oh God! That's what I imagined, said the poor woman, hiding her face between her hands.
It was what I imagined, and I was already trying to familiarize myself with such an idea, but my heart
cannot understand this.

Don’t despair, the old man said gently, taking her by the arm. This doesn’t matter much.
Now; we do not have much time left to live and so let us not embitter the last days.
of our existence with useless afflictions.

But when ... when shall we go?

Now, today.

So, may God have mercy on us!

He will have, murmured Jacob.

The old couple remained silent for a while, until they were awakened from their
painful musings from the sound of a car that stopped at the door. A man entered the
room. He was the administrator of the beggars' shelter.

Listen, Mr. Mariano, he said, the city councilors decided to welcome you at
Beggar's asylum. The car is at the door, you must get ready as quickly as possible.
possible.

Jacó Mariano had never thought that overcoming the opposition of this step would cost him so much.
In the gestures of this man, there was such hardness that his heart froze.
and he let himself fall on the bench with a deep sigh.

Come on, hurry up, said the administrator, impatiently.

At that moment, another car stopped at the door.

Is this Jacob Mariano's house? This question was asked by the car owner.
He was a kindly-looking man, about forty years old.

It is my name, said Jacob.

- In this case, I am well informed, the newcomer replied. Are you from the asylum of
Beggars? asked the administrator.

Yes, sir!

And is he here to take these people?

Yes, sir!

Then you can come back; Jacó Mariano will not go to a homeless shelter while I am around.
alive.

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The administrator cast a scrutinizing glance at the person who was speaking to him and withdrew.

Do you still remember me? asked the newcomer, taking the hand of
old.

I don't remember.

Do you not remember Lucas Vieira?

- Vieira? repeated Jacó, fixing an inquisitive look on his interlocutor.

- Yes, Jacó Mariano. ... Lucas Vieira, the little boy whom you have known for thirty years.
freed from the correctional facility; the poor boy, whom you so kindly freed from
persecution of justice, placing him on one of their ships.

And you are ...?

- Yes ... yes, I am that man. You found me like a stone in the hands of
poverty is a bad example. It was you who warned me about the evil. The lessons you taught me
gave in my youth became a blessing, the spark of your goodness
It awoke in my heart and converted over time into a flame. After having
having acquired riches, I was now willing to spend the rest of my life in tranquility and
Ventura, when he learned of your need. That's why I came here. Come, sir, who
You have been more than a father to me, and you, my mother, come! You have enlightened the
my youth, and I don’t want you to spend your last days in darkness.

Jacó Mariano took a few unsteady steps forward and fell into the arms of his savior.
He did not know how to express his gratitude as it was too great to be conceived.
by words. When he raised his eyes again, he sought his wife.

- Suzana, he said with a trembling voice, I received my bread again.

Forgive me, Jacob!

No, Suzana, it is not me who must forgive you; God has taken us into His hands.

Oh, the woman murmured, raising her tearful eyes to the sky; I never want to again
to doubt Him.

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17 - Offer from a Poor Indian
It is said that the story of a young Indian chief, who had a wife and children, in the high
Canada, on one occasion left the village and withdrew to a distant forest, with the aim
to hunt. Soon after arriving there, as his provisions were about to run out, he left, as if to
costume, in search of a hunt, but soon saw that his good shape had abandoned him; the
animals, as if they knew your intentions, would retreat to a safe distance, out of
range of your shots. Unsuccessful in his business, the poor Indian renewed his
excursions; but the bad outcomes replicated.

Discouraged, after persevering and lengthy efforts, remembering the isolation and
the urgent needs of his family, which had been feeding for more than three days,
with roots, he stopped, exhausted, and sitting on a trunk in a hidden place, but of
way to hear and see your little ones playing around the hut, remained the
to meditate.

He looked at the blue vault above him and contemplated the beautiful firmament and the bright.
Sun, and, looking around him, saw the green grasses, the swaying trees, and the flow of
water, and said to himself: "These things did not come here by chance; they must..."
they have a cause; they cannot reproduce by themselves and therefore must have been created! And
Who is your creator? Surely it is the Great Spirit! I wish that the Great
May the spirit bless the poor Indian, so that his family does not die of hunger.

So he thought that perhaps he could give something to the Great Spirit, so that the
blessed.

And what did he possess? He had his blanket, which, despite having served him well
service and may it still be necessary to you, and I would give it to you if I blessed it.

So he took the blanket and laid it over a log, and with his eyes raised he said:
Here it is, oh Great Spirit! Accept this blanket, and bless the poor Indian, so that
Find food and your family won't starve.

The anguish of your heart has not calmed. Manna did not fall from heaven to relieve you.
the offer was not enough. What should I do?

A charm was hanging from his belt. Could he do without it? Yes, if that's what the
Great Spirit asked, he would dismiss her. He stood up as before and placed her on top of the
trunk and said: "Great Spirit, take my firewood; it's all that the poor Indian
there is nothing more for You to give, take it and bless me, and give me food for
my children." But alas! there was no reply. His condition was still the same. And now, the
What to do? There was his rifle, his only means of hunting, his assistance and
inseparable friend. How to dismiss her? Would it also be necessary to offer her? He stopped,
but oppressed by his sad condition; almost desperate, he took the rifle and placed it
in the trunk, and exclaimed: "Oh Great Spirit, take my rifle too! It's all
that the poor Indian possesses. Take it and bless the poor Indian! Do not allow his
the family dies of hunger.

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Let's go to the homeless shelter.

- Oh God! That's what I imagined, said the poor woman, hiding her face between her hands.
It was what I imagined, and I was already trying to familiarize myself with such an idea, but my heart
cannot understand this.

Don’t despair, the old man said gently, taking her by the arm. This doesn’t matter much.
Now; we do not have much time left to live and so let us not embitter the last days.
of our existence with useless afflictions.

But when ... when shall we go?

Now, today.

So, may God have mercy on us!

He will have, murmured Jacob.

The old couple remained silent for a while, until they were awakened from their
painful musings from the sound of a car that stopped at the door. A man entered the
room. He was the administrator of the beggars' shelter.

Listen, Mr. Mariano, he said, the city councilors decided to welcome you at
Beggar's asylum. The car is at the door, you must get ready as quickly as possible.
possible.

Jacó Mariano had never thought that overcoming the opposition of this step would cost him so much.
In the gestures of this man, there was such hardness that his heart froze.
and he let himself fall on the bench with a deep sigh.

Come on, hurry up, said the administrator, impatiently.

At that moment, another car stopped at the door.

Is this Jacob Mariano's house? This question was asked by the car owner.
He was a kindly-looking man, about forty years old.

It is my name, said Jacob.

- In this case, I am well informed, the newcomer replied. Are you from the asylum of
Beggars? asked the administrator.

Yes, sir!

And is he here to take these people?

Yes, sir!

Then you can come back; Jacó Mariano will not go to a homeless shelter while I am around.
alive.

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18 - Alice's Sermon
Filipe de Melo had been seriously ill. No one else had any hopes for him.
his life, however, began to recover. His doctor, who was also his
intimate friend advised him to take a room in a family's house near the beach
lake.

The hotel arrangement doesn't suit you; if you want, I can arrange a room for you at my house.
family, where you will receive all the necessary care at the same time.

- As you wish, replied Filipe wearily. He would have preferred to have died when
I was at death's door, so now I would no longer be a nuisance to anyone!

Dr. Moreira looked at him somewhat frightened and said: - Is this fair, Mr. Filipe? You
Are you ready to die?

Do not be upset about it, Dr. Moreira; it's the truth, I am not ready to die.
Do as you see fit regarding the room. I am grateful to you for everything.

In a beautiful village by the lake, Dr. Moreira found an attractive little house.
picturesque, surrounded by elms. From that house, a beautiful view over the lake unfolded,
the waves that came crashing against the rocks on the shore. One enjoyed being there with
a splendid day and Dr. Moreira was firmly resolved to do everything possible to
bring your friend over. This little house was the summer residence of a widow.
sufficient. He did not have rental rooms, but after Dr. Moreira had...
presented with the case of her friend, striving with her to receive him, she, after all,
Therefore, the necessary arrangements were made to transfer Mr. Filipe there.

Soon after the first few days of his stay there, he began to experience noticeable
Improvements. He was very fond of the place and Mrs. Araújo attracted him with her kindness.
She had a seven-year-old daughter, the only one remaining from the four she had.
a charming and enchanting girl and Filipe quickly formed a friendship
with her. She would spend entire hours sitting by his bedside, until he was able to walk, and then
they used to take trips together to the lake beach.

The summer was very calm and this tranquility was greatly appreciated by Filipe, both from the point
from a physical and moral point of view. He was rich and had always led a frivolous life, until
death took his mother from him. After that blow, he had fallen ill. And now, what he felt
recovering under the sweet influence of this retreat, I also felt a desire to change
life; did not yet know, however, how to clearly define that for which her soul longed.

He would often engage in long conversations with little Alice, and on the afternoon when
he will solve from, this I told you:

I'm sorry that you are leaving.

You shouldn't feel; you still have your mother and so many others who love her, whereas I
I have no one anymore, said Filipe with a sad accent.

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- Oh! you are mistaken, replied the little one; I love you, and you love me too.

- Ah! yes, I believe you love me, Filipe replied; but God - oh! no, Alice, God
can love good girls like you, but I am too bad for such a Being
elevated may love me!

- But, Mr. Filipe, it is written in the Bible that God is love. I am not good either.
Mom often calls me naughty; she tells me, however, that God despite everything loves me.
but He who forgives me and all who plead to Him.

- And do you believe this? Mr. Filipe asked him with a curious look.

Naturally, because God says so and mom does too.

- Oh! what a blessed faith! murmured Mr. Filipe, and, raising his voice, added: But I,
How do I say, Alice, I am too bad and I must improve myself before God can love me.

Alice nodded her little head covered in curls and said:

You cannot improve yourself; it is Jesus who must make you better; there is a
Oh mom, how good that you came at this moment; how is it
that passage that says God loves sinners?

Mrs. Araújo quoted the passage from the second chapter of the epistle to the Ephesians: 'God, who
He is very rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were
still dead in our offenses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you are
and raised us up together with Him and made us sit in the heavenly places in Christ
Jesus ... For by grace you are saved through faith; and this is not of yourselves, it is the gift of God.
God.

- Do you see, sir?! exclaimed Alice, satisfied; you yourself cannot do this! God bless you
but it gives you everything.

Mr. Filipe smiled and said softly:

No wonder Jesus said, 'Let the little ones come to Me.'

But Jesus said even more, Mrs. Araújo added: "Truly I say to you that, if
you shall not be converted and you shall not make yourselves like little children, in no way shall you enter into the

kingdom of Heaven.

Mr. Filipe looked at her in amazement and Mrs. Araújo understood that the truth had come to her.
wounded the heart.

A few weeks later, he received a letter from Mr. Filipe, in which he said to him:
I experienced the love of God. Alice's sermon and her observations me
They determined to renounce my pride and to believe like a child.

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19 - The Protest of the Old Lady
The residents of a small town in Pennsylvania, United States, had
gathered in a rally to deliberate on whether licenses should be granted for
opening of taverns that year. The assembly was very crowded. One of the elders
he had assumed the presidency and around him had taken their seats, among others
people, the pastor of that locality, a merchant and the doctor.

Once the session was opened, one of the most respected citizens of that city stood up and then
short speech proposed that the ordinary number be granted for that year
licenses for taverns. He considered this measure more prudent than refusing them,
thus provoking useless excitations. The speaker's proposal seemed to have obtained the
public approval and the president was about to put it to a vote, when, from a
In the room, someone stood up to make an objection. Everyone's eyes turned to...
they immediately returned to that place. It was an old lady, poorly dressed,
on whose face were imprinted traces of great suffering, which had risen up
to speak. Her demeanor indicated that she had already enjoyed better days and the expression of
his eyes, which at times sparkled, betrayed great intelligence. Turning to the
president, he noted that he had knowledge of this meeting and came to refer
some of your painful experiences regarding this issue of licenses.

The people present here," she said, "almost all know me. I was once the happy
owner of one of the best parts of this city. She had a husband and five children, and
I have reasons to doubt that a woman has ever had a husband and children.
better than I had. Where, however, are they now? Right there in front, at that
cemetery, there are six graves, the resting places of my loved ones, and - oh; how hard it is to say
the tombs of six drunks!

"Do you want to tell me, doctor," the woman continued, turning to him, "how it is that
Did those six loved ones become drunk?
you told them that moderate use of alcohol was not harmful. And you also,
Mr. Pastor, many times you came to my husband to drink at his place.
company, thus inducing my children to believe that you, as a religious man,
Given such an example, the use of alcoholic beverages could not have any inconvenience.

But you, merchant sir," the woman continued in a more exalted tone, "you
you provided the drink to those drunks. My property is now in your hands and
you acquired it by drinking.

The timid woman then turned, trembling, to the audience and ended her sad
Here is everything I had to say to you. I am now returning to the
asylum of the poor, which is my home. To you, reverend sir, pastor, and to you very much.
wise doctor, and respected merchant grandfather, perhaps you will not see this world again,
but we must meet before the tribunal of God, where my husband and my
five children, whom you lost due to your detestable influence, shall also
appear.

The woman sat down, her eyes brimming with tears. A deep silence reigned in the room.
silence that lasted for a few moments. Finally, the president, standing up, spoke to

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assembly in these terms: "Are you willing to authorize the competent authorities to
grant licenses for the opening of taverns also for the current year?

A unanimous and resounding "No" that echoed off the walls of the room witnessed the
the impression that in the auditorium the protest of the old lady had taken place. Since then not
more tavern licenses were granted in that locality.

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20 - As Long as I Am Sincere
The following story can be read with profit by those who are inclined to follow.
routinely old habits, soothing the conscience with this saying: "As long as
that I be sincere, everything is fine.

The mill to which Jacob and David had taken their sack of wheat on that day was quite
busy. Jacob and David lived in a small farm that was about eight kilometers away from
central railway, and they were not at all saddened by having
what to expect after a few hours for the flour. They then had the opportunity to observe something
of life and the movement of the 'neighborhood,' as that part of the village was called where
there was the tavern, the store, and the mill. Wandering back and forth, they saw and
they heard a lot of things. Finally, a heavy rain began to fall, and they returned to
mill in order to have a meal and see if they would be dispatched soon.

The miller's son and the merchant's son were engaged in a heated discussion, which
It didn't take long to attract Jacob's attention. David went out to see what was happening with the wheat.
Meanwhile, the miller's son was trying to convince the merchant's son of the importance.
to examine the truths contained in the Bible. However, he refused all argument,
Objecting: "It doesn't matter what a man believes, as long as he is sincere."

The vigorous and frank tone of the young man pleased Jacob and he wished he could discuss
also like this. "It doesn't matter what a man believes, as long as he is sincere," said Jacob.
to himself, as he tried to imprint that discussion about religion in his mind.

The sun was already declining when the two boys received their wheat.

You have a much longer way to go than I would wish for you, said the
miller, looking at a black cloud rising on the horizon, darkening the sky.
Here comes plenty of water for my mill.

The horse set off at a brisk trot and soon they had disappeared around a bend in the woods.
the darkness increased, however, quickly, and the night had closed in when they arrived at
crossroads, where it was important to know which path to take. One of them was the
most commonly used. Along this path, there was a good bridge that crossed the river of
currency, which grows a lot with the rains. This was the safest path, although
it was the longest. The other was a path through the forest, which they used to
farmers living on the other side of the city, in order to shorten the
path. By this path, it was only possible to cross the river at the point where it gave
wow.

Dad said we should take the main road if we came late, he noted.
Davi.

Let's go! said Jacob; the horse had stopped at the crossroads as if to give time to the
boys to reflect on the path they should take. Jacob was indeed a little
confused; the curves of the path, which were lined with woods, and the darkness of the night
they hid the objects that could serve as a guide. This, added to the little
the knowledge they had of the way made them hesitant, although Jacob, who was the
older, did not want to confess it, out of simple pride.

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As soon as the horse stopped, he began to whip it again, exclaiming:

We are right!

Are you sure? asked Davi.

Yes, I know this way.

I don't know him, said David; let me get down and go to where that light is, in order to
ask for information from the people who live there.

- We don't have time to waste, Jacob replied. I firmly believe this is the road.
principal, Davi, and that is enough, you can trust me.

Your decisive faith will not make the path certain, David observed.

- I have no doubt about this, shut up! Jacob shouted.

I think we should ask first in order to be sure, said David.

Jacob, however, urged the horse, and David's words were carried off by the wind, which in
strong gusts swept through the forest like a harbinger of the storm that threatened
to unseat. Meanwhile, the horse ran as much as its strength allowed. Jacob was
perfectly satisfied with the quick decision he had made regarding the path,
and the further they went, the more convinced he was that it was the right path.
Now the roar of the river overshadowed the whisper of the tree leaves.

- Spur the horse once more and in a moment we will have crossed the bridge, he exclaimed.
Jacob, and what will you say to me then, my old boy?

- I wish we were already on the other side, murmured David, and moments later Jacob,
Davi, the sack, the horse, and the cart were rolling into the swollen river, wrapped in
complete darkness, with the storm hanging over the head, and without any help
human over a stretch of a few kilometers. It is needless to describe the first
moments of this sudden interruption of his journey. Jacob was finally able to hold on to
trunk of a raft, reins in his hand. "David, David!" he shouted with all his strength.
lung power.

Thank God, exclaimed David, here I am!

But the wheat? It quickly turned into a paste that was carried by the
current of the waters.

It doesn't matter what a man believes, as long as he is sincere, exclaimed Jacob, all
soaked and humiliated. It is the biggest lie that the devil ever invented. It is in the
the right path is what is essential. Sincerity does not preserve anyone from
the possibility of being wrong ... no, definitely not. What good is all his
Sincerity? It cannot save you from any trouble.

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21 - Beware of the Diviners
On a beautiful summer day, four cheerful and playful young people went out to the countryside to visit.
a friend who lived in a nearby village. They had spent the afternoon of that day in
innocent divertimentos and jovial chat, and they were just about to return home,
when suddenly the cry was heard: "The gypsies, the gypsies!" and immediately afterwards
a small group of this nomadic people appeared, scorched by the Sun. Begging and
predicting fate, this small group wandered through the village, finally arriving at the house in
who considered themselves gathered were the friends. A young woman, with bright black eyes,
who was carrying a child in her arms, entered the room. In a poorly articulated language, however
understandable, she asked for a small donation and finally said:

- O beautiful maiden, the black Zita can also read the fate in your hand, and it's true! GIVE-
give me the right hand; do you want to hear about wealth and fortune? Zita is happy with little
pay.

She persistently took hold of the hand of one of the young women who was closest to her.
Marta, however, angrily pulled the fingers of the gypsy's hand and said with a gesture of
refusal: - I thank you, madam. I do not wish to know in advance the
my luck, because this is not good and God forbids it.

- But dear Marta, said Ana, a beautiful and graceful young woman, you must ...
take this so seriously. Well, this is nothing more than a little joke, a
interesting divertimento.

No, my friend, this is not a joke, Marta replied vividly. I am


convinced that you will firmly believe in what this woman predicts;
that's why I consider this an illicit business, if not a sin. I beg you to send away the
Gypsy! Remember what our pastor told us about the third commandment.

Now let's get away from this, Marta! Don't be so impertinent, and don't try to ruin our
pleasure with your preaching! exclaimed the two sisters Isabel and Henriqueta. We wish
to know that the gypsy fortune teller will read our palms. There is certainly nothing wrong with this.
because many people do the same!

Yes, yes, that's right, Ana confirmed, and that's why we don't want to be better than
others. There, my lady, is my hand. I will make the beginning. But see if you
prophesy something good!

The gypsy smiled slyly, took the beautiful young woman's hand, and began her
bruxarias. The child had sat on the grass before this, where calmly
was playing, devouring the bread that had been given to her. Curious, the young girls surrounded the gypsy,
and they had a strange impression when the guess, after murmuring
some incomprehensible words, began to speak, in a solemn tone: Ventura and
misfortune comes from the same hand! The beautiful girl will have to marry twice
Happy and twice deprived of what is dearest to you! Are you satisfied, my lady?

Well, I couldn't wish for more, Ana replied, smiling a little.


awkwardly. Two husbands and happy with both! I must confess that only one of them makes me

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would satisfy. But now it's your turn, Isabel. I'm curious to know what you are going to tell her.
sibyl.

Now, let's stop the nonsense! exclaimed Marta, with a gesture of indignation. I think that this
It should be enough for them. It would be better for us to get ready so that we don't arrive too late.
late to home!

The others did not agree with this.

Well then, they exclaimed in their girlhood mischief, we want to know first the
the part that belongs to us! We still have a lot of time to go back. Henriqueta, now it's time to
your turn.

Sad and unwell, Marta returned to her seat, while the young Henriqueta
I offered my right hand to the gypsy. Perhaps it was because the gypsy had become irritated with those
contradictions or because the coin that Henriqueta had offered him was not enough for him,
What is certain is that this time she did not use ceremonies. "On June 18, the young lady will...
to ... die," she said with a sarcastic smile. She quickly took her child and
disappeared, before the frightened girls were aware of what had happened
happened. Henriqueta became livid, and the others, astonished, looked now at her now
for the gypsy, who was moving away.

Except for Marta, all of them felt as if under the influence of a power.
mysterious and were regretting not having followed their friend's advice, when
she said to them, nervously and in a tone of reproach:

Are you seeing? It's the result of these things! Those who do not want to listen must suffer the consequences.
consequences. I knew perfectly well that nothing good could come from this deal.
Now you are like children to whom the hens have just snatched the bread!
Henriqueta, I ask you, don't make such desperate gestures! I don't think you are
able to give credit to what that foolish woman said. Our lives are in God's hands
and I cannot believe that He would reveal our destiny and our end to a gypsy. Come,
be sensible and forget this nonsense.

This, however, was easier said than done. Although Marta made every effort
to distract your friend, when they found themselves on the way home, she however did not
managed.

A mysterious shadow of sadness loomed over that group of young ladies.


little so cheerful, and returned home dominated by serious apprehensions. Henriqueta,
mainly, I was very excited. I couldn't forget for a single moment the prophecy of
gypsy, and this fact she took as a sure sign that the woman had told her the truth. And
Consequently, the thought of her impending death afflicted and tortured her, stealing away.
all the pleasure and joy of life. As the fateful day marked by approached
gypsy, her anguish grew, and the girl, just a little while ago so healthy and
vigorous, she was consumed by fear in anticipation of what was to come.

The others also suffered more or less from the memory of that reckless act that
they had practiced. The only one to whom these things did not affect was Martas, who did everything
the effort to dissuade his friend from that gypsy. Unfortunately, however, everyone

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your arguments were useless. Henriqueta fell deeper and deeper, and her joviality
of yesteryear gave way to melancholy and sinister concerns.

Leave me! no one can escape fate, she said in an apathetic tone, when Marta
with tearful eyes I asked him to revive and by trust in God and
pleasant spirit contradicted the gypsy's prophecy.

At the break of the fatal day, the unfortunate Henriqueta found herself gravely ill and the doctor
he declared that she would die. "Rapid decline of strength, he said, shrinking the
shoulders. I cannot explain it, as the patient is not in the mood for tuberculosis, but,
judging by your constitution, you could have reached an old age! It's as if a fire
internal was consuming all of its vitality.

The doctor had unconsciously been right. The fear of the gypsy's prophecy seized the
poor girl in the flower of her youth. She had, it is true, the privilege of dying in peace with
God is with men; this, however, did not affect the fact. If Henriqueta had not
Having read the fate, she would not have died in the bloom of youth. The sinister faith in the fulfillment of
The prophecy and the terror she experienced from it made her ill and led to her death.

A few weeks before Henriqueta's death, Ana had married a young man.
respected and well-placed, and such was her fortune that she initially forgot that
fatal prophecy. When, then, Henriqueta became seriously ill, and was becoming each
On a weaker day, Ana recalled, with horror, that gypsy. It couldn't be possible that she...
Despite everything, would he have told the truth? And if he also had to fulfill what was asked of him?
I had predicted regarding your marriage! Ah, this would be terrible! From then on the
the young wife could only rejoice in her happiness with trembling, and a thousand times she
he regretted not having followed the warnings of the prudent Marta. Also the sensible
exhortations from her husband, to whom she had confessed all that dreadful story, little
they took advantage. Timid, she followed the course of Henriqueta's illness and each time
news of worsening that he received, his heart throbbed violently. 'If
Henriqueta dying, I know what I know," she said, crying. "Just like my
Friend, I too will have to suffer my fate!
could not be left to its fate, but that she was under the protection of a
God full of grace, without wanting a single hair to fall from his head. 'But
It may be God's will that I soon be deprived of what is dearest to me.
She sighed. "My guilt and my unhappiness are that I have let myself be...
such a disastrous game.

When she received the news of Henriqueta's death, the poor woman nearly
she went mad, and the most serious and vigorous exhortations were necessary to make her
to recognize that your friend had died simply out of the fear that she had of that
prophecy, and that she would have nothing to fear if she began her new life with confidence
no Sir. Despite everything, the memory of this fact continued to hurt him like a
the stinger to the soul.

Many years have passed since this event. Ana's husband is still alive,
Sadio is strong, and nothing suggests that the gypsy's prophecy will come true. The two
spouses live very happily. From time to time they talk about that village sibyl; the
Ana's apprehensions, however, seem to have disappeared. Sometimes, when her husband is
on a trip or when it takes longer than usual, the old fears

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they become alive again, and then, despite her efforts to get rid of them, she only
can do so very imperfectly. "Ah, if I had never seen that gypsy," she many
sometimes sighs. "But who would have thought that the transgression of the commandment of
God was to take revenge so harshly! If it were not for the gypsy's prophecy, Henriqueta
maybe she would still be alive today, and I would not need to live anxious about life
my husband!

Do not turn to the diviners and charmers; do not seek them, contaminating yourself...
You with them: I am the Lord your God." Leviticus 19:31.

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22 - Faithful Seat

Among the greats of the Earth, the rulers, heroes, sages, artists, and great merchants
In times past, there have been many who, like David, had a beginning.
poor and difficult. However, your pity and diligence, your fidelity and perseverance, and before
Above all, your faith and constant prayers guided us to a good and sometimes to a glorious
end.

The well-known Dutch admiral Ruyter was, in his youth, first an apprentice of
cordwainer, then sailor, and later clerk. His loyalty and diligence,
however, they recommended him so well that his boss entrusted him with a shipment of fine goods
, whom he should take to Morocco. There at that time ruled a Bey or
a prince, who was not very amiable.

This prince, accompanied by the courtiers, visited the fair one morning as well
he looked at Ruyter's fine cloths. One of the finest pieces particularly caught his attention.
eyes and asked about the price of the cloth. Ruyter who, like any true merchant
Christian did not demand more than he was worth, he stated the price that his employer had assigned to him. The Bey
offered him only half.

I am not Jewish, said Ruyter; I do not usually traffic. The price I asked for I have to
receive, as it is not my property, but that of my boss, and I am
simply his employee.

The Bey did not expect such a response, and therefore he said, very indignantly:

Christian dog, do you not know that your life is in my hands?

I know well, Mr. Bey, replied Ruyter, but I also know that I did not ask for too high a price.
high, and it is my duty to take care of what belongs to my boss, without thinking of myself. Not
I will give you the piece for less. I would rather give it to you as a gift than lower it to a fair price.
Let the Lord do what pleases Him, but know also that one day you will have to give account of
everything to God.

All the merchants, who heard this, were astonished.

The Bey looked at the young man with angry eyes, and all those around judged
would give the order: "Decapitate him." But no; the prince held himself back and only the
threatened, saying: "If you haven't changed your mind by tomorrow, you can do your
"will." The proud prince turned his back, left Ruyter, and continued to gaze.
the goods of other merchants.

Ruyter, very calmly, set the mentioned piece aside, and faithfully served the others.
customers. After a few hours, when the fair was no longer busy, the others
merchants urged the fearless young man, saying to him: "Give him the cloth as a gift.
or by the price offered! If he beheads you, then all the merchandise is lost and the
ship too. Having the prince given the beginning, then easily all of us Christians
We are lost.

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After having reflected calmly, Ruyter replied in a firm voice: "Do not fear anything!"
I am in God's hands. I must be faithful in little as in much. My boss does not
I will not lose a penny because of me. I will not stray from my duty.
Ruyer thought still: "I prefer to die as a faithful servant rather than yield to unjust demands."
prince. And you, oh beloved Lord in Heaven, are at the helm, and without Your will they cannot
twist the end of a single hair. Faithful souls have always had Your holy angels by
lookouts!

The next morning, Ruyter was very upbeat in his tent, waiting for the
guests. Then the prince came with proud steps and behind the courtiers the executioner with
red habit, and a long and wide sword at his waist. The prince stopped in front of the
Ruyter's tent, she looked at him with penetrating eyes and said:

Christian dog, have you changed your mind now?

Ruyter responded decisively and without fear:

Yes, I thought a lot; but I cannot give the piece for less than I already said yesterday. If the
if you want to take my life, take it. I prefer to die as a faithful servant, with a clear conscience.
clean, to yield to your demand.

Everyone present held their breath; for the man, with the broad sword, was smiling,
like the devil, when he sees a soul on the path of perdition.

However, look at the face of the proud and violent prince. Smiling and amicably.
he looked at Ruyter, and said: "Truly you are a faithful soul. A more faithful servant of
that you, I still haven't found. I wish I had such a person in my court!
to the courtiers who surrounded him, he said: "Take this Christian as an example." To Ruyter,
However, he said: "Christian, give me your hand! You will be my friend, whom I love.
truly.

He then took a small leather pouch and threw it on the table, with the following
It contains exactly the amount you requested. And from this cloth of yours, I will have made
a habit of honor, that in remembrance of your loyalty, I will place on the special days of
year.

Should I add another word to this true event? Yes. 'Be faithful!'
Be faithful at least, be faithful in all places and in all things, because the
The Lord will reward fidelity! - Fidelity conquers, fidelity guides to Heaven. - Friend
from Childhood.

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23 - Do Not Judge
A lady who lived on the fourth floor of a house across from mine, woke me up.
the attention. First of all, I had to admire and even envy the beautiful flowers that she
she planted at her window. In fact, she had a very happy hand for cultivation of the
flowers. However, I was very sad when any of those plants bloomed, because
was immediately transported to another place, far from the window. This was something for
my inexplicable. Little by little my attention shifted from the flowers to that.
Madam, I have unintentionally started to observe your life.

Judging by appearances, he should be around twenty years old. His clothing was simple, but
well taken care of. When I went out in the morning for a walk or shopping, the curtains of your
the house was still closed; she was probably still sleeping. However, when I
she was already sitting by the window, busy with embroidery. From time to time
when she surely reads some romance, I thought to myself. I never noticed that she
the lady would leave, as I assumed she only went out at night. She also did not receive any visitors,
except for that of a gentleman, whom I saw one day standing next to her, admiring her flowers. That
Sir, I have seen you several times visiting that house.

The good opinion that was held of him faded in light of these observations. A
a boy employed in a pastry shop also went there frequently. He also concluded
that she did not attend any church and did not take part in any work of
charity. My judgment was therefore made. Surely she was one of those people
isolated, living in good conditions, satisfying all their desires and to
pleasures of the world.

I must make an effort to help this soul," I thought, "for that is the duty of everyone.
the Christian and it would be very good if we could win one more person for the work of
Mister.

With this desire, I went one night to the house of that mysterious neighbor. The arrangement of
The room was, as I expected, simple and tasteful. She seemed ten years younger to me.
older than observed from my window. Pale and with an expressively shaped face.
strange, her gaze was firm, her eyes clear and so penetrating,
that I was almost forced to lower mine. It seemed difficult for me to find a reason to
justify my visit and find a pretext for a conversation.

She then observed my bewilderment, kindly took me to a room and


he pointed out a sofa to me, telling me without affectation:

It gives me great pleasure to have your visit as a neighbor, especially because it would be impossible for me to go.
look for her first.

I replied, it seems to me that you never go out for a walk, just to say something.
to escape the perplexity in which he was still.

- Almost never, she replied, because I can't leave my father here alone, being he
sick as it is; moreover, I am not a young lady, but a widow. With these words, she took the
embroidery and continued: I ask for your permission to continue my work, as I promised
I will bring it to you by night. Now I won't need to interrupt you, as my father is

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sleeping. And meanwhile I ask you to stay here, I take great pleasure in
to receive visitors, as they are, very rare.

Naturally, I accepted that request with great pleasure. The calm and serene face of that
The lady stayed forever engraved in my mind. She was actually quite nice.

- So young and already a widow, I said, it's quite sad!

Yes, six years ago. It had only been a few hours since I got married. When, in
On the night of our wedding, we arrived at this place, my husband was so seriously
injured in a railroad accident, who only had time to make the will and
say goodbye to me.

Deeply moved, I shook the hand of that kind widow, while tears
sliding down her cheeks, falling into the work she is doing.

Fortunately, the lady has her father with her, but as she said, he has been around for a long time.
sick, isn't it?

The sorrowful expression on that lady's face became more pronounced.


from that poor widow could be read a long story of sufferings, endured with
indescribable resignation.

He is my stepfather, whom my mother married when we were already grown and far away.
from the family home. She died soon after, and I thought it would be good to bring my
stepfather for my house, since back then he was suffering from his back.

The way she told her story was as simple as possible, seeming like she had
done the most natural job in the world. I, however, knew what that disease was and
how many sufferings and sorrows that lady had brought upon herself.

Is there no one to help her care for her sick person, a relative, someone?
nurse? I asked her.

No, no one, she answered. I don't have money to pay a nurse.


the money that my late husband left would only be for me; in light of my illness
stepfather, I am forced to work on embroidery to earn something to give you
to give from time to time a refreshment or a sweet. He really likes sweets and cakes,
She attached herself, smiling.

I didn't know what to say. Each word from that lady increased my admiration and
perplexity.

But you won’t be able to endure this for long, I finally said.
He also needs fresh air, rest. The patient can never be left alone?

She shook her head.

I only tried it once. On a Good Friday, I had the desire to take communion.
in a church; on the way back, however, I found my patient so much worse, so discontented with the

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person who will take my place during my absence, whom I was forced to call the
doctor. He said that those excitements could result in the worst consequences, and
In fact, I don't even like to remember his state after that. I also don't have
No relationships. Only the preacher comes to visit me regularly and the doctor as well.

So you don't have good books that uplift your depressed spirit?

No, I don't have time to read. The few moments I have left, I use them
reading the Bible or the hymns, which I later recite to the sick person during their sleepless nights. This helps them
calms me down and is also a great comfort for me. In the early morning, he usually
falls asleep and then I can also sleep a little. You may have already noticed that I
I wake up very late, don't I?

Fortunately, I didn't have to respond, because at that moment a voice was heard that
he said from the nearby room: "Elisa, where are you? You always leave me alone!"

Mrs. N. quickly ran to the patient's room. Through the ajar door, I saw a rose.
yellow very beautiful and some carnations and begonias. Now I knew where they were taken
those flowers, when they disappeared from the window.

She stayed in the patient's room for a long time. All the while, I could hear him speaking, with a voice
discontented and interrupted by moans, while the gentle voice of my new friend the
she animated with tenderness. When she returned, I said goodbye, promising to repeat my
visit.

Arriving home, various feelings washed over me. On the piano, I found a piece that was very ...
known as "the hymn without lyrics," by Mendelssohn. Thinking about the title of that hymn,
I concluded with myself that I had also heard a sermon without words, whose first
The phrase was: "Do not judge." St. Matthew 7:1. This kind neighbor who not once
to pronounce the name of the Lord, as commanded by the commandment of God, had me
shown in a completely strange way to me, the strength of those words: "If
Anyone who wants to come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Me.

And this chosen one of God is who I wanted, in my spiritual pride, to convert! My
Shame knew no bounds. My Christian activity never seemed so miserable to me.
like the day when my conscience accused me because of that lady. How
pure and holy was the service of the one I once despised! Mrs. N. became
always my friend and every time I met her I felt comforted by that
preaching without words. And what’s even better is that the sick person converted, changing
the heart. It became more patient, and seeing that there was no more salvation for its body
sick, he recovered in the peace of Jesus his spirit.

The expression of suffering that had previously revealed itself on her face disappeared and then
I could once again consider how much she had suffered under the bad state.
stepfather's spiritual. Every time I visited her now, she would tell me, with eyes
shining with satisfaction, how patient your stepfather had become, like the
they comforted the preacher's visitors and were encouraged by the passages they read, and with the
hymns that she recited on sleepless nights.

One morning she came cheerfully to my house and said to me:

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Today I can go with you to church, my stepfather wants it. He himself asked a
neighbor who would stay with him during this time. Today we will take the Holy Communion.

When the next morning I went to visit Mrs. N.'s house, I found her
kneeling at the foot of her stepfather's bed, her face full of tears. He was with
with crossed hands, as if he were sleeping: indeed he had fallen asleep peacefully.
but only to wake up on the last day. He and his daughter could now lay down their crosses
at the feet of Jesus.

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24 - The Line Keeper and His Son
Good Teemann held the position of track inspector at the East Railroad
Tennessee had a special obligation to watch over the great Hiawassee bridge, which
It started about a hundred steps away from his little house. The little house itself was situated in a
gorge through which the aforementioned road passed, composed of a double line that ran
between her little house and the nearby hill. It had been a week since it started raining and in
As a consequence of excessive humidity, the land had become unstable.

A new landslide occurred yesterday a little below Sweetwater, said Job to


your son Rúben, a thirteen-year-old boy, who was sitting by the stove, was busy in
to carve a racket.

Joe was a widower, and little Ruben had to take care of the household; he did it, however,
in such an unsatisfactory way that his father often felt the need for a
housewife

These red hills of Tennessee, when they start to collapse, do not stop anymore, said
Ruben raising the racket with this question: Don't you think it's good, dad?

- I think so, replied the father laconically, as he headed for the door in order to
to peek one more time at the weather.

The perspective of this night was very promising. The sky was enveloped in a
thick darkness through which a light rain fell. From the side of the bridge came a
deaf rumor as if the wind and the waters of the river had been locked in struggle. The river already
had crossed the banks, flooding the entire lowland over a distance of more than one
kilometer.

Pensive, Joe closed the door and sat down by the stove. Shortly after, a noise was heard.
strange and creaking that seemed to come from the bordering hill.

- What would that be? Maybe ... Job was saying, but did not finish the sentence.

The muffled noise ended with a violent bang. Something hit head-on.
against the house and crushed it like an eggshell. The light went out. While making Job a
effort to stand up, was thrown under the table, where it was stuck
in the midst of the fragments that were crumbling. After the tremors and the noise had ceased,
he felt, in addition to other bruises, a piercing pain in his right leg. The darkness was
and the rain was hitting your face directly.

Where are you, daddy? asked the fearful and anxious voice of little Ruben. Sir, you
Did it hurt?

I think I have a fractured leg, Jó sighed. Maybe it’s just dislocated. Already the month
I warned the traffic superintendent that this hill sooner or later
it had to collapse.

Is it you who are here, daddy? said the boy, who was now close to him.
I sensed that you were hurt because I heard your moans.

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Yes, it's me, my son; if it were possible for you to remove a little of that junk, perhaps I
could get me out of here. The line must be blocked over a large stretch. It was a
land collapse, and additionally another significant collapse.

Well then, said the boy, putting all his strength into removing the debris.
I will first attempt to free you and then we will see.

Very well, my son, that is quite enough; I think that now with some effort I will be able to
On the journey, but the express train that departs from Laudon at eleven fifteen should not be late.
minutes. I checked the clock just before the collapse and it was ten thirty.

Can't we signal? asked Ruben.

I'm afraid not. I'm convinced that the lanterns are broken and too much like
Would it be possible to find them under this rubble? Do you know where the matches are? I don't have them.
nothing with me.

Neither matches nor lanterns could be found. Everything was probably


buried. What was surprising was that Job Teemann and his son were not buried.
also.

Oh, my God! Job lamented. Why did we have to be reduced to such a deplorable state?
situation?

With the help of his son, Job had managed to get out from under the table, but he could not walk.

- I'm completely worn out, he said. There's no other remedy but for you to go yourself.
Hi, Ruben.

Until then ... where, daddy?

Until Laudon. Someone has to go there to communicate what happened. I just told you.
What time is the express? We cannot allow him to throw himself into that pile.
from the earth as long as one of us can still drag himself.

But the great bridge of sleepers! Who will be able to cross it without a lantern, daddy?

You have to feel your way, Ruben, said the father, who had decided to send the boy to
Laudon, even though with great risk to life. Oh God, forgive me for sending the
Boy! said the anguished father. It is cruel, Ruben, but there is no one who can do anything.
stop the train, we are the only ones this side of the bridge within a kilometer radius.

Ruben hesitated for a moment. It was fair to leave the injured father alone, even
but Job put an end to these hesitations once and for all.

You have no time to lose if you want to be in Laudon before the train. If you don't
you will immediately be on your way, you will force me to punish you when I am
reestablished. It is about saving lives.

I'm coming, dad.

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Ruben took his father's hand and squeezed it, then withdrew, stifling a sob that
It cut Job's heart.

My God, forgive me if I do wrong, sighed Job, but in the conditions in which I find myself
It would be impossible for me to get there on time.

When Ruben climbed over the mound of earth that obstructed the line, he convinced himself that
that the father was right. It was necessary to reach Laudon, no matter the cost. If the
If the trem were to throw itself into that mound of earth, it would cost many lives.

The darkness was so dense that Ruben could only stay on the line by moving forward.
feeling his way along the tracks, Ruben slowly advanced until a gust of wind
from below, made her realize that she was on the bridge. It was
necessary to bypass it on all fours, and still in a hurry, because in a few minutes it should
the train is arriving.

Would he arrive in Laudon before the express? This concern troubled him even more than the
fear that instilled in you your difficult task. Logs of wood dragged by the
the current of the waters would occasionally clash against the pillars of the bridge, making it
tremble everything. As if the river had overflowed, tree trunks and others came
objects from all directions, looking for their passage precisely where the bridge them
put up obstacles.

What if some broken barge were to collide with the pillars, destroying the
"Jump!" Ruben hardly had time to contemplate the possibility of such danger, so much that
his aim was to get ahead as quickly as possible to catch the train..

Finally he had crossed the main bridge, still needing to cross a


wooden construction section on the other side of it, and underneath which the waters
likewise they roared, plunging into the dark depths. The forces of Ruben
began to decrease.

If it were not possible for him to cross that extensive wooden construction, he would not only be
unable to raise an alarm, as he was to be crushed himself by the
train.

Suddenly felt an unusually violent shock, as if a large object


if the weight had collided with the sleepers. The whole construction creaked behind him,
He had even less time to think about the possible cause of this shock.
to try to verify it. This incident, however, incited him to devote his last
forces. It was essential to arrive at the station on time, otherwise everything was lost.

Meanwhile, Ruben's father had been lying down for some time, reflecting on what had happened.
Then he rose with difficulty and peered through the darkness, in the direction of the waters that
he roared, until his eyes began to burn. It would have been so beneficial for him to peek
through a stone wall. The deep darkness made him shudder when he thought
the terrible obstacles that were to stand in Ruben's way on his difficult path. He thought
in his youth, in the horrors of that night ominously gloomy, and in what could
happen to your child and frustrate their attempt.

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This state of spirit in which Job found himself became finally unbearable for him.
He once again began to blame himself for having forced the boy to take such a risk.
Finally, the desire to see the child safely might exceed his concern.
for the salvation of others. Then he had even threatened Ruben with punishments, if he did not
in a hurry to set off.

Dominated by these feelings of anguish, Job tried to drag himself to the line, where
began to wander aimlessly, groping between the tracks, which despite the pain that
a feeling in the leg somehow contributed to calming the storm that had arisen.
unleashed in the spirit. According to his calculations, it had been quite some time since Ruben
He would leave. Would he have arrived there safely?

He was dragging himself forward with this distressing thought when he suddenly saw
a great light emerging at a curve that was beyond Laudon and moving towards the
site where he was.

"My God, it's the express!" he exclaimed with great anguish, forgetting about the
fright, of all your pain. "It's the train."

Where would the boy be? Ruben might not have arrived at the station in time. What
What would be made of him? And what would be the fate of the train that was now approaching? With this
the cruel thought poor Job was dragging himself forward, hitting a sleeper after
until suddenly, her hand groped... into the void.

With great difficulty, he managed to maintain his balance.

With great caution he repeated the experiment, and a shiver ran down his spine.
Evidently part of the bridge had been swept away by the torrent.

"It was rafts that caused this," said Job, shivering from the cold. "And here comes the train. Which
Would it be the boy's luck?

Like a desperate man, the father, lying on the damp ties and tormented by pain,
he raised his convulsive hands: "My son! my son Ruben!" That was all he could manage.
to say, as his heart threatened to break: The train with its big eyes of
fire, was approaching, and there he was on the tracks unable to do anything
Any. Every attempt to raise an alarm was in vain. Meanwhile, the noise
the locomotive and the sound of the waters in the depths penetrated his soul, it seemed to him
to see before his eyes as if hundreds of lights dancing around him and sparkling
from your anguish and, suddenly, a vertigo made everything fall into deep silence.

Daddy! Daddy! Is there no one who can bring him back to life? How could he have fallen here in
down?

Calm down, my boy! He will soon come back to himself. I can faintly feel the pulse of his
heart.

When Job Teemann opened his eyes, this was his first question: 'where is my
Son? Where is Ruben?

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Ruben, however, had already fallen into his father's arms and could not find the words to express.
his joy for having found him. Now the line guard inquired about the train.

I arrived just in time at the Laudon station, dad, Ruben said. Speaking-
Then from the landslide and its state, these men took me to them
they came slowly here to check the situation. I told them that
a part of the bridge must have crumbled behind me, because that was the feeling I had
shaking caused by the shock. Thus, we took the board of directors of the station and
we arrived right here, where we found him lying on the sleepers. No
Did everything go wonderfully, daddy?

The railway workers took Jo, their little savior, in


locomotive, and five minutes later they were at the Laudon station, surrounded by
a large crowd of curious and grateful passengers.

That there was no lack of attention from the recognized travelers on this occasion and
during this inadvertent waiting time, little Ruben was celebrated as the hero
of the day, it will be unnecessary to add.

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25 - A Mother's Prayer
- Alberto, my son, where are you going? It was the voice of a virtuous mother, educated in the Christian faith.
who was addressing his son, for whom he prayed incessantly.

What does it matter to you? replied Alberto, heading towards the door.

Breaking into a sob of tears, the mother threw herself around his neck and said:

I don't care about that, Alberto?

No, I already told you, I'm tired of your prayers and this constant annoyance:
"where are you going, Alberto?" I'm going out into the world, where I won't have to listen to them anymore. Yours
prayers you can make in favor of others, I want you to forget me. Saying this
Alberto opened the door and prepared to leave.

Alberto, my son, his mother said to him once more, my prayers will
to accompany you. When you are tired and fed up with this world, return and take by the
path of your mother.

Alberto was the son of a farmer and was twenty years old. Naturally, he was excitable,
he has recently turned to drink, which led him to take annoyance at the solitary life of
fields. The father, although he was worried about his son's behavior, never insisted.
with him about it. The mother, however, affectionate and tender, sought by all means
to call him to the path of good. When Alberto disappeared, she withdrew to her room.
to unburden the oppressed heart before God.

Three years have passed; three years of a hectic life, amidst pleasures and seductions.
from a big city, and in the heart of that son there remained only one desire - the
to put an end to existence. Degraded to the point of no longer keeping any trace of his
anterior masculinity, occasionally begged to alleviate hunger, rarely
remembering your loving mother. And if in the first months of your erratic existence the
the memory of the mother and her prayers would sometimes disturb his soul, the voice
from its consciousness had long succumbed to the suffocating weight of passions and only very
frankly could still be heard.

On a cold winter night, we see him hurriedly heading towards a river.


in the intent to throw himself and thus put an end to his miseries. While passing in front of a
place of worship feels involuntarily detained and is compelled to enter.

A gentleman with a kindly appearance and still young steps up to the podium. Melodious chords
the environment is filled and a manly voice sings with a moving accent:

The voice of your mother perhaps a child


Will you be able to forget?
Follow him away from the path of wickedness,
Of this voice, which from a song the refrain,
The prayer will follow.

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The love of your divine Master and the sinners for whom He suffered seemed to carry away from
enthusiasm for the young singer who, with a tenderness capable of making the most
hardened hearts, sang the second stanza:

The gaze of your mother perhaps a child


Will you be able to forget?

This look that the tears blur the shine


He/she travels the long path without cease
In the eagerness to see him again.

No punishment could describe the feelings that were tumultuous in the heart of
Alberto. For the first time, after so many months of unfortunate existence, his soul
he turns a gaze to the past and begins to feel an invincible desire to see his
mother. Remembering, however, the abrupt way he left her and noticing her sad
condition, says to himself: "No, I will not go there again, my mother cannot
to recognize as a son such a vile creature as I am. I will, therefore, execute what
"I designed." At this point, the singer, raising his voice, continued:

Oh, come back, my son! Oh, come back again!


To the path of good!

Alberto hurriedly left the room; a missionary, however, who had him
watched closely, followed him. Alberto was overwhelmed with deep regret
And while leaving the room, she broke into a fit of sobs, saying: 'Oh! my mother! forgive me -
I who still launch upon the lady this reproach, seeking to put an end to
existence, but I can no longer bear it!

"Oh, return, my son! Oh, return once again!" was the voice of the missionary who repeated
whispered these words in Alberto's ear. Alberto stopped and the missionary,
holding him by the arm, he led him back to the room, where some missionaries had entered to speak
with him about salvation. Moments later, Alberto fell, contrite, to his knees,
begging God for forgiveness of sins. He then told his friends the following:
When I left my parents' house, my mother told me: 'Alberto, my son, the
my prayers shall follow you; when you are tired and weary of this world, return and
take the path of your mother.' I will return to her and protest to her that I am determined to
start a new life.

The next day Alberto returned to the place of his birth, where in a few hours
he arrived. Night was falling and no one noticed when he headed to his parents' house. When
stopped in front of the door, heard, inside, the voice of his mother who, as usual,
he was pleading with God for his son. Alberto entered and with a voice choked with deep emotion
he whispered: "Mom!"

I then learned that the father had passed away a few months ago and the mother, lonely and sad, continued
waiting for his son's return, for whom he had never ceased to pray. Alberto soon obtained
good placement and thank God daily for the salvation of your life, largely
due to the influence of his good and pious mother and the sympathetic exhortations of those
noble missionaries.

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Oh, mothers! who feel yourselves fainting, continue always, praying incessantly, that
God will hear you! Missionaries, do not let yourselves be overcome by fatigue; continue to
work and sing! "Sow your seed in the morning, and in the evening do not let your hand cease from...
do the same. ...

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26 - A Boy Misjudged
Don't rush the boy, Maria said to her husband, hearing him exhort.
harshly warned the child not to linger in the street when returning from school.

- I only wish to be obeyed, retorted the husband, and turning to the boy, said:
Now go to school and, when you return, come straight home, on the contrary,
I will teach you.

Carlos said goodbye while wiping the tears that secretly slid down his cheeks.
He was a handsome and good-looking nine-year-old boy, full of life and therefore naturally
eager for all sorts of developments. The father, however, seemed rather inclined to forget
that boys are boys and it would be unnatural for such a young man not to be unrestrained
and expert.

He had, however, to learn at his own expense. During the afternoon, his business had...
a bit embarrassed, so he returned home in a bad mood. He was not bad;
he would get angry easily when things didn't go according to his wishes.
Very accurate and punctual in everything, I could not tolerate the spirit that others did not have.
also.

Sitting by the living room stove, his face revealed a bad mood, which only intensified.
accentuated when his wife, entering, announced to him that Carlos had returned from school all
wet and covered in mud.

Where is he? the father asked sternly.

In the kitchen, the mother turned back; he fears to enter, because the maid warned him that you were
at home.

It's no wonder that you are afraid to enter, for just yesterday I urged you not to get so close to
Rio. Tell him to come in.

Moments later Carlos came in, shivering from the cold. A look from his father was enough for him.
to convince what awaited him.

- Didn't I tell you not to go so close to the river? It happened to you well, and tomorrow you
I will show you what I think of your behavior, but in a way that you will not easily...
forget.

- But father, said the boy, allow me to explain to you how it was.

I don't want to hear, go to bed.

I just want to tell you, daddy, that ...

- I've told you - shut up! and with a significant gesture added: You're going to bed or
you will still have to regret it.

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The boy obeyed slowly, retreating to his room without having dinner. When
Carlos left the room, said the moved mother:

I think you should have listened to what Carlos had to say to you. You know that in
but he has always been a good son and, if he does something mischievous, it is more because
inadvertence of what is glaringly.

Well, but he should obey me, since I strictly forbade him to go so close.
from the river.

Meanwhile, it seemed that a dark cloud was looming over that dwelling, in fact
cheerful and happy. When the two spouses retired, the father felt compelled to
peek inside the room where Carlos was sleeping. Approaching cautiously
from the bed and intercepting the light of the candle with his hand, he fixed his gaze on the boy's face for a long time
which resonated peacefully. Deep down, he regretted having acted this way, although
sought to suppress this feeling by telling himself that the awareness of duty
he advised to be firm. Talking later with his wife, he promised to first listen to what
Carlos had to tell you before resorting to the extreme measure.

However, that occasion did not come. The next day, upon waking, they were surprised to notice that the
the boy had been struck by a brain inflammation, and could no longer
to recover. Despite all the efforts and the burning desire with which they were
the parents whom Carlos would make recognize him, the unfortunate boy passed away a few days later
later.

When the news of Carlos's death reached the school, one of his closest classmates...
Carlos came to see his family.

I was with him when he entered the water.

Really? the father inquired, and can you tell me how it was?

Yes. Two boys were fishing when, I don't know how, one of them slipped and
he fell. Carlos, without hesitation, threw his cap, launching himself after the thief, managing not to
without difficulty, dragging him out of the river, helping them to climb to the shore. Carlos
he asked me to say nothing, as they had forbidden him to go near the river. By
the path always repeated: 'What will my father say when he sees me like this? It was not for me, however,'
It was possible to proceed in another way; it was necessary to save Tomé.

- My poor and unfortunate son! exclaimed the father. This is what I wanted to tell you,
refusing to listen to him. God forgive me!

Tearful tears rolled down her cheeks, and many years later the appearance of the
toys and the books of Carlos pierced his heart, what he could have avoided, if
he should have listened to the son before condemning him.

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The Clock That Struck Thirteen at Midnight
When we traveled in Palestine, from Nazareth to Tiberias, Reverend J. Bounsall recounts,
we passed through a rough and rocky road. During the trip, one of the clerics, who
they accompanied us, told how by divine providence an innocent man was saved
to be convicted as a murderer.

It was a few years ago, when, near midnight, two men stopped at the foot
of the big clock in the city of Plymouth. The hours struck and both men
they counted thirteen beats and one said to the other that the clock had struck thirteen times in place
of twelve. One of these men was Captain Jarvis. Not long after, the same
Captain Jarvis woke up one morning very early, got up and dressed; then he went down to the
street door. He opened it and was truly surprised to find the servant waiting for him,
like the saddled horse.

I had a feeling that you would need the horse, he said, so I did not
I could stay in bed longer and I gave up on it.

The captain was initially surprised, but he mounted his horse and followed. He did not govern.
the horse but let him be free. He went to the side of the river and stopped near the place where
There was the ferry that transported passengers to the other side. It grew the
the captain's admiration when he saw that the barge was ready for
transport passengers to the other side, as it was still very early.

How come you are here so early? asked Mr. Jarvis.

I could not sleep anymore, my lord, it seemed to me that someone needed to pass by.
the other side of the river.

The captain boarded the ferry with the horse and soon they arrived on the other side. Again
he let go of the reins and the horse continued down the road. After a good march, they arrived at a
city. He then asked one of the passerby if anything of interest had happened in the
city.

Nothing, sir, nothing, except for the judgment of a man who was accused of
assassination.

The captain headed to the building where the jury court was located, dismounted and entered.
in the courtroom when the judge asked the defendant if he had anything to claim in his
defense.

- I have nothing to say, Mr. Judge, except that I am innocent, and that in the whole world there is
only one man can testify to my innocence, but I do not know his name,
Not your home. A few weeks ago that man and I were together at
city of Plymouth at midnight, and we both heard when the big city clock
hit thirteen times instead of twelve, for which reason we then exchanged words. If he
if he were here, he would confirm what I have just told you, gentlemen, but I do not harbor the
minimal hope, because I don't know where it is.

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I'm here! I'm here! shouted the captain; I am the man who was in Plymouth
That time I heard when the clock struck thirteen instead of twelve. What it affirmed
the prisoner, it is pure truth: I recognize the man. On the night of the murder, precisely at the time
in which this was committed, he was with me in Plymouth and we watched each other
a singular fact of the clock striking thirteen times at midnight.

Thus it was proven that the man was indeed innocent, and he was released.
Who can fail to recognize that in this case the hand of our benevolent God is
evidently manifested? First of all, who arranged the events of
How did those two men meet at just that time? Who woke up
the captain that time in the morning? Who made him come down to the street door? Who woke up the
he created and forced him to unsaddle the boss's horse without having received an order from his side
From where? Who led the horse to the place of the ferry, whose reins the captain had released? Who
Did you wake the bargeman and make him go down to the river? And who made the horse take the road that led to...
in the city where the innocent poor would be condemned as a murderer? Finally, who was it?
what influenced the captain to enter the building to attend the jury, precisely in the
the most appropriate moment possible? All of this made The One whose name is: 'Merciful and
pious, great in benevolence and truth." - Souther Cross.

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28 - The Young Merchant
A few years ago, a young man, whom I barely knew, came one night, at a late hour,
to my home. After we talked about one thing and another, he told me that
he wanted to talk to me about a subject that had been troubling him for a long time. He then told me that
A few months ago, he had found a job in a warehouse. As he was in business,
little experience, the boss had great difficulty starting him on his duties and the
always treated with great caution. But expected things from him that the poor young man
believed contrary to justice and equity. And he told me in detail and with the greatest
simplicity what the boss taught you is an integral part of the required skill
through trade, without which no one could be a merchant. For example, one should judge
by the appearance of the ladies entering the store, that is, to see by their dresses, their
ways, your voice and your gaze, if they were in line with the current prices of goods
what they wanted to buy. If not, he should extort the largest amount possible from them. If he
I asked him to lower the price, he should have said: You are the first person to
who did we leave this object for such a petty price, or: I left it to you for the price of
cost, or rather: You will never find this merchandise at this price anywhere.
another place; and a thousand other insinuations of this kind.

I pointed out to him, then, what he had also already understood, that there was a
triple sin: to lie, to deceive and to steal. He had often taken his
doubts to the boss about this way of acting, but he laughed and answered: Everyone does it.
You will not be able to be a merchant unless you use these processes. In trade
everything is good. Your scruples are unfounded. - I had no experience of life,
the young man said to me in a melancholic tone. I was educated in a distant village and I do not
I know the customs and traditions of the world. My mother is a poor widow who could not
give me careful instruction. But I believe she would not approve of my procedure.

And you, I said to him, looking at him intently, do you think this behavior is fair?

No ... I ... maybe ... my boss says it's okay and he is a member of a church.
My mother, however, would be very sad if she knew that I do this every day.

And I tell you, my dear friend, that your mother has more religion and good sense than the
your boss. He may be a member of a church, but there is in the church, and there always has been and
there will be members who dishonor it.

In this case, I have to lose my job.

Better to lose it; do not hesitate for a moment.

I hired myself for a year and that period has not yet expired.

It doesn't matter much. Were you hired to deceive and lie?

No, absolutely.

There is no need to hesitate, in fear of not fulfilling your duty. If he...


dismiss because he does not want to do such things, recognize him as a dangerous man, of
Which gentleman should consider himself happy to be far away.

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I don't know what to do if I lose my job, he then said to me with a dejected look. I earn
only just a little more than necessary to pay the pension; my mother sews me
Clothes. If I lose my job, I won't have anything to pay the pension for a month.

You earn so little that you will lose little by leaving the job. I do not have the intention of
to be a deep connoisseur of business, but I believe that your boss is not right for
with you. It's an injustice to give you so little. If by chance you run out of means to pay
the pension for a month, tell me and I will help you.

He never took advantage of my offer, and he never needed it.

If I leave my job, my mother will become very unsettled, assuming that I am fickle.
or that there is something else. She will fear that I am already on the path of perdition.

Don't be distressed. Tell your mother what it is and your heart will be filled with joy.
He will thank God for having given him such a son and for him he will raise prayers to Heaven.
ardent, a thing moreover preferable to all the gold of Ophir. The eyes of that young man
they filled with tears. For a moment, she kept silent. finally she said to me:

I don't think I can stay there, but I don't know what to do or where to go.

Look to God and trust in Him. Do you think He will let you suffer if you lose your job to
obey His commandments? Never! Therefore, turn to Him and ask Him for light.

I feel strange in this place, he continued with a downcast expression. I know a lot here.
few people and I don't know where I can find placement.

For this very reason, you should ask God to guide you. Do you usually pray?

Yes, sir. I started seeking God a few months ago, since I heard a sermon.
about this. Since then, I have always strived to live close to Him.

Well then, return to your duty and fulfill your obligations faithfully and punctually, without lying.
If your boss becomes unhappy, gently and respectfully tell him that you will only do what
will be in accordance with the law of God and will never consent to lie to please
this or that. If he is not reckless, he will love him more and will soon recognize that
he has a loyal employee on whom he can count. But if he is as reckless as he is little
conscientious, then he will fire you. After this, then he will see what to do. However, be,
Sure that God will make a way for you. Above all, repent and believe in the Lord
Jesus.

The young man left, promising to come back. He didn’t stay in that job for long. His
the way of acting was not suitable for the boss.

Logo found employment. His integrity and orderly habits contributed


much for your later success. When you embarked on your own business,
prospered and still prospers. It has been thirteen years since it came to my house at that time
late at night. I always hear about him as a useful and active Christian, respected by all.
be happy in your family. I sometimes have the pleasure of seeing you and every time we

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now dead too and, if still alive, surely no longer remembers me." He was trying to
If speaking calmly and indifferently, it was noticeable, however, that his heart was beating.
quickly; his voice trembled and finally he rested his forehead on his hand.

Ah, I told him, you greatly underestimate a mother's love if you think that way.

I then told him, as an appropriate fact for the case, the story of the poor widow and her
offering. I spoke to him with feeling and anointing. He hid his face in his hands and through the
fingers ran tears to the ground. A shiver passed through his body, reaching
to such an extent their emotion, that I had to stop for a moment, but, recovering again,
I continued my story.

Where did this happen? he asked, in a low voice, after I had finished.

In the city of W...., I replied to him.

What is the name of the widow?

- It is Berta Morrison.

Didn't you say you had that coin with you? He raised his forehead, which was
pale.

Yes, I replied to him and, taking it out of my wallet, I handed it to him. He observed it with
attention and, turning it between his fingers, examined closely the engraved letters on the
Reverso. After all, your heart no longer fit in your chest. Bursting into a strong
sobbing, she exclaimed: "Oh, my mother!" She then said to me, in words choked with
solutions: "I sent you this coin; it was my last shilling. When I sent it to you, I asked for
God make him a blessing for my mother. I am here under a false name, I am
Donaldo Morrison. The sobs choked his voice. When he raised again the
head, extended his hands in a gesture of supplication and said:

Get away! Step back for a moment and leave me alone. Step back for a moment, I will
I ask you to come back later. However, please allow me to keep this coin.

I called the jailer and went out, narrating to him and the guard what had happened. Both
they were compassionate people and were deeply touched. Half an hour later I returned to
I found the prisoner on his knees. He stood up and, extending his hand, said:

I beg you not to speak to me about it again; I can't stand it, my heart is bursting.

But, I would dare to replicate it to you (because I had been encouraged by the guard), if it were possible for me.
take him out of here and restore his freedom, so that he could go wherever he wanted?

He held me by the arm and a ray of light illuminated his beautiful face.

Ah, if you could do this, I would be saved! You would restore a son to his
mother.

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29 - He Died for Us
In a cemetery in Buffalo, United States, there stands over a tomb a
magnificent marble cross. In front of this tomb, sitting on a bench is a
old man with white hair. With his hands resting on his knees, he has his eyes fixed on the cross,
while abundant tears slide down his cheeks. He can often be seen there.
in that attitude, surrounded by others who also stop, moved. When they are
ask what this attitude of yours means, pointing to the marble slab that rests
about the punch, and about which is thought to be engraved in golden letters;

To the helmsman John Maynard. The grateful passengers of the 'Schwalbe.' He died.
for us.

If we insist on the details, they refer with trembling lips and moist eyes to the
following touching story:

John Maynard was the helmsman of a steamer heading from Detroit to Buffalo, and we were
passengers. It was a beautiful summer afternoon and the deck was overflowing with people, when
A spiral of smoke began to rise from within the steam.

Sympson, called the commander, go down there and see what's going on!

Sympson went down and, upon climbing back up, very pale, exclaimed: - Commander, the
the ship is burning. And immediately there was heard from all sides the anguished cry:
Fire on board! Fire on board!

The entire crew rushed to help, vigorously attacking the fire with powerful
jets of water, but all in vain. There was among the cargo a large quantity of
resin and tar, which frustrated all efforts. The passengers ran to the
commander and they asked him:

What distance separates us from Buffalo?

One and a half miles.

How long is needed to cover this distance?

Three quarters of an hour, if we maintain the pace.

Will there be any danger?

- Danger? Look how the smoke erupts! For God's sake, take refuge at the bow, if you don't want to
perish!

Everything rushed forward, passengers, sailors, men, women, and children.


John Maynard remained at the helm. The fire broke out, emitting flames and black smoke.
smoke rolls. The commander, using the acoustic tube, shouts:

John Maynard!

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At your command, sir commander!

Are you at the helm?

Yes, sir!

What is the direction?

Southeast!

Approach to the southeast.

The coast was approaching, and once again the commander shouted: - John Maynard!

The response was heard very faintly: At your orders, sir commander!

Can you hold on for another five minutes?

I will resist with God's help!

The old helmsman's hair was scorched to the skull, his body burned and his hand
charred right. Firm, however, like a rock amid the waters, John Maynard
he turned to the left on the helm and approached the land - everyone was saved, except for the
Helmsman: falling on the beach yielded the spirit - died for us! We surrounded the body,
deeply moved and with tear-filled eyes. Here lies buried.
Sailors and passengers and almost the entire city accompanied his funeral, and when
the body was lowered into the grave, strong sobs and the sound of weeping were heard. We erected for him
this monument - it will pass, it will not withstand the action of time - its memory, however, will
to continue in our heart - we shall never forget him, for he died for
we.

Dear reader! Turn your eyes to Golgotha, and you will see three crosses there, and on one of them
the Man of sorrows of whom the prophet testified:

Truly He took our infirmities upon Himself, and He carried our sorrows
about Him. ... He was wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities: the
the punishment that brings us peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed.
Isaiah 53:4 and 5. His memory shall remain in our hearts. We shall never forget him.
forget, because He died for us.

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30 - Wonderful Salvation
Locomotive N. 449, of the Pennsylvania Railroad, is a machine that in no way
differs from its congeners, however, an event occurred with her that perhaps has not
examples in the history of locomotives.

The scene that took place with her demonstrates once again how God serves Himself.
often by the most insignificant means to divert an imminent danger - means
that many are pleased to call casual.

It was a bleak and dark night. It was pouring rain. Through the storm
fled or expressed in a dizzying career. It had fallen behind and was now fulfilling, despite the
contrary winds, reclaim the lost time. The engineer questioned the darkness, not
without expressing some apprehension. What would become of them if there were any line guards.
neglectful of your duty, or the demolishing waters falsifying some of the sleepers in
that lay the tracks? However, he was not able to moderate the speed of the train.
that, flying over the fields, produced a horrific noise as it passed overhead
extensive metal bridges. The signal lights appeared like fireflies in the middle of the
darkness to make it disappear in the next moment. Only the vigorous electric spotlight,
the locomotive cast its beam of light into that darkness, illuminating the
short distance the stretch of the path that they would have to cross in the next second.

But what is this? In the reflection of the light cast by the spotlight, a spectrum in shape stirs.
of a woman, whose cloak seems to float in the wind. From time to time the shadow rises
the long arms, as if to warn them not to go further. The
The machinist, although frightened, tries to suppress his fear. Perhaps it was the fatigued sight.
who or it deceives. Meanwhile, note that the stoker also faces the shadow, looking at it
frightened. Yes, there she is still, waving at them again, shaking the formidable
arms.

Francisco, brother or fireman, Francisco, stop the train! A few kilometers still and
We have arrived at the Creck bridge, do not cross it! Let's see first if everything is in order.
in order. And Francisco, yielding to an invincible feeling of terror, halts at the regulator.
and it makes the train stop.

What happened! shouted the driver, turning, startled, to the front. Francisco has
almost a feeling of shame when confessing what caused the train to stop, so
but the black specter had disappeared.

Now, he said, I cannot be sure what we saw, but it seemed to us that we saw a ghost.
that was running in front of us, waving at us with its long arms as if to
to warn us that we should not proceed.

- Are you crazy? asked the driver with a look of suspicion. Nonetheless, all the staff
he headed towards the bridge. Down below, the creek roared, its waters swirling.
formidable ravines, but the bridge... that had disappeared. Just some beams.
still stood out, outlining themselves in the void of the abyss. At that moment, reappeared the
spectrum in the reflection of light, waving once again with its large arms.
Moved, the small group stops in front of that phenomenon.

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Francisco, says the driver, it is not to our destination but to God that we owe our journey.
were saved from a tremendous disaster and, reflecting on what happened, they all returned to
train. However, some passengers also presented themselves, but no one could
explain the phenomenon. Finally, it was up to a young man from Chicago to unravel the mystery. Here
there is your ghost, he said, holding a large moth between his fingers. This
animal, drawn by the light of the spotlight, had entered it on one of the occasions when
it was open, landing on the inner face of the glass. From time to time
would move away from there, hovering around the light and projecting in this way a huge
shadow in the reflection of itself. The formidable arms were represented by their
the curious animal, which became an instrument of salvation for so many
passengers, received a place of honor in the same locomotive, where it can still be today.
observed in a small glass box.

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31 - The Eleventh Commandment
A church in a certain locality in North America was about to receive a visit from a
new minister of the gospel. As was the custom of all the ministers who came there
staying at the house of the W. brothers, once again these noble brothers had
the necessary arrangements have been made to prepare a reception for the new minister
Ms. W. was very busy in the kitchen, preparing some
culinary acepipes, and Mr. W. was strolling on the porch of his house when he appeared in
at the stair level a poorly dressed traveler, inquiring about the distance that there was
to the next city. "You still have to walk five kilometers," was the reply of the
house owner. It was intensely cold and the traveler begged to be allowed to warm up.
stay a little by the stove before continuing the trip.

Mr. W. agreed, albeit with some reluctance, and they both headed to the kitchen. The woman,
noticing the strange one, who was wearing a rather worn suit, having a hat on his head
that did not denote less use, and that wore some coarse and heavy boots, threw him some
unfriendly glances. After some hesitation, he offered her a chair next to
oven, inside which some excellent cakes were ringing destined for the reception of the new
minister, who the next day was supposed to preach in a chapel located about two
kilometers.

After having properly warmed up, the guest was preparing to continue the journey;
the weather was, however, not very inviting and the delicacies on the stove had for such
sharpened the appetite, which could not resist the temptation to ask for something that
eat, before setting off. Mrs. W. did not receive this with much satisfaction.
order, still, after having consulted her husband, served him bread and a little of
cold meat on an old table that was in a corner of the kitchen.

Meanwhile, night was falling, and the owners of the house signaled to their guest that it was
necessary to leave, as there were still five kilometers to the city.

Finally, the meal was finished and the stranger, thanking cordially the
received hospitality, headed to the door to leave. However, he was already very
dark and judging by the clouds, which were fleeing swiftly, there was a storm in sight.

Did you say there are still five kilometers to the city?

Yes, that was what I said, replied Mr. W., and I told him that when he arrived here; you sir,
As a sensible man, he should have taken note of this, trying to continue his journey.
before closing the night.

- But I felt cold and hungry and perhaps I had fainted on the way, said the
unknown.

The tone in which he spoke these words touched the farmer a little.

You warmed me and gave me food, continued the stranger, and I am very grateful to you.
for this reason; perhaps you might still grant a favor to a foreigner who could be lost on the way
in this darkness and come to perish from cold?

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The manner and tone in which these words were spoken made it impossible for the farmer
to respond to him negatively.

Come in and sit down, he said to the stranger; I will talk to my wife to see what she
say this.

Mr. W. entered the dining room, where the table was already set for dinner, covered with
a very white towel, on which a beautiful porcelain set was displayed and that only
was used on great occasions.

Hasn't the stranger left yet? asked Mrs. W., who had heard the voice of the...
even when he returned from the door.

No, and what do you say to this: he asks to stay overnight at our house?

No, we cannot consent to this, especially not with a person of that kind; where would we put them?
what?

Naturally not in the better room; but the minister seems not to come today.

Indeed, it seems so.

And we cannot send away the unknown; he is not a strong man, and he still has five.
kilometers to the city, continued Mr. W.

It's too much: I should have gone while it was still daytime and not wait until it was too late.
night.

It's no use discussing this point, Joana, we can't drive him away.
from here.

But what are we going to do with him?

It seems he is not a man of bad intentions; we will make him a bed on the floor.

Upon these words, Mr. W returned to the kitchen, where the stranger had taken a seat.
next to the stove, and informed him that he could stay overnight. The stranger thanked him for it.
few words and everything fell silent.

Soon after, Mrs. W., who had lost all hope that the new minister would still
he put the dinner on the table. It consisted of roasted chicken, coffee, and cakes. After it was
Everything is prepared, the homeowners sought advice in order to decide whether their guest
he should be invited or not. It is true that he had been given plenty of bread and meat, but
now that I wanted to stay overnight, it seemed unwelcoming for them to sit at the table without
also inviting them. Thus, by turning necessity into a virtue, it was the unknown
cordially invited to the dinner, an invitation he did not decline. Mr. W. said a
brief prayer, invoking God's blessing, and then the meal began.

At the table, there was also an interesting six-year-old boy, elegantly dressed, the
One should make a special greeting to the new minister. I was conversing.

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unceasingly and the parents were proud of him, even in front of his modest guest,
he particularly observed the little one, without, however, saying much.

- Now come on, Carlito! said Mr. W after the dinner was over; you can recite that for us
beautiful hymn that mom taught you?

Carlito got up and correctly recited two or three stanzas of a well-known hymn.
religious.

Now tell us the commandments by heart, said the mother, pleased with his ability.
son. Carlito recited the commandments without any embarrassment.

How many commandments are there? asked the father.

The boy hesitated for a moment, then, looking at the stranger who was sitting
next, asked innocently:

How many are there?

The man reflected for a moment, and then asked, as if hesitating:

Isn't it eleven?

Our?! exclaimed Mrs. W., with sincere astonishment.

- Eleven?! the husband repeated, more in a tone of reproach than of admiration.

Is it possible that you don't know how many commandments there are? How many are there, Carlito?
Tell me, you know it perfectly well.

- Ten! replied the boy.

Very well, my son said Mr. W., looking at him with a satisfied smile.

Very well! There is not a single boy of his age in this entire neighborhood who could not
Tell him that the commandments are ten. Have you ever read the Bible? said Mr. W.
focused on tin.

As a boy, I read it many times. But I was firmly convinced that it was eleven.
Aren't you mistaken, thinking there are ten?

Mrs. W. clapped her hands in astonishment and exclaimed:

How is it possible to have such ignorance of the Bible!

Mr. W. said nothing, but standing up, went to a corner of the room, where there was a
Bible, brought it and placed it open before his guest. - Here, he said to him, pointing with
the finger of the Ten Commandments, examine the Lord himself. Then he moved a little away,
looking over the shoulders of the unknown. - Do you see?

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That's how it is, isn't it, replied the stranger, yet it seems to me that it is eleven.

- But then you don't see here that there are ten? asked Mr. W., with visible
impatience.

Yes, perfectly!

- Well then, what more do you want?! Don't you believe in the Bible?

Oh, yes, I believe in the Bible, however it seems to me that something was added somewhere.

This was too much for Mr. and Mrs. W. Such ignorance in matters of religion to them
it seemed unforgivable. A lengthy lesson followed in which the guest was reprimanded,
exhorted and threatened with divine indignation. At the end of it, the guest asked
humbly it was possible to have the Bible for one or two hours in order to read it, before
to lie down.

This order was fulfilled with more pleasure than any of the previous ones. Shortly after
At dinner, the man was taken to the room reserved for lesser guests.
ceremony, taking the Bible with him. Before Mr. W. said goodbye to him, he considered his
I must still speak to you a little about spiritual things, which I did with the greatest
possible gravity for about ten or fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, there was nothing that their
words made some impression on him, and he left the guest lamenting the
your hardness of heart and ignorance.

The next morning, the strange man respectfully took part in the domestic worship.
After the meal, he thanked the farmer and his wife for their hospitality.
they had dismissed and continued the journey.

It had been ten hours and the new minister still had not arrived.

The W. brothers headed, therefore, by car, to the meeting place, convinced that the
they were supposed to find there. However, they were disillusioned. A large group had already gathered
crowd of people outside and inside the church, but not even a sign of the minister.

Where is Mr. N.? asked a dozen voices, surrounding the farmer.

- He didn't come, something delayed his arrival, but I'm still waiting for him. I was counting on
certainly find him already here.

The day was cold and somewhat unpleasant, and Mr. W. suggested that they enter the church.
to wait there for the arrival of the minister, he positioned himself peeking out of the window. It didn't take long
that the congregation hall was full. The farmer, who used to always look
at the door when it opened, he was quite astonished to see suddenly enter the
your guest from the previous day. He advanced slowly, peeking at everyone
the sides as if looking for an empty seat. Finally, he walked over to the
pulpit. At the same moment, Mr. W. was by his side and took him by the arm.

You should not sit here; come, I will show you a seat, he said,
in an excited tone.

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Thank you very much, the man replied in a muffled voice; I am very well here; and
continuing property in your chair. Mr. W., understanding the uselessness of his
efforts were made to go to one of the church officials to help him get the man out of
behind the pulpit. However, before he could achieve his intent, the stranger
he got up and opened a hymnal. His voice penetrated to the marrow of Mr. W. when,
with a distinct air and in an impressive tone, announced the anthem, which was about these words:

Do not forget to do good, and to share from your goods with others, because
with such offerings is how God feels obliged.

The congregation stood up after the stranger had read the entire hymn and repeated
the first two verses. Brother W. was the one who usually started the hymn, which he
also did it now, but very slowly, noticing right in the second word the mistake that
he will make, started again, but this time in a very rushed time. Another brother
came to his aid, beginning to sing the anthem in rhythm. After the song the
the congregation knelt down, and the minister - no one doubted he was -
prayer with virtue and eloquence. Then he read a chapter from the Bible and there was then a
deep silence due to the anxiety everyone had to hear the text that the minister
you would hear a pin drop, such was that silence. Suddenly
I give you a new commandment: that you
love one another, as I have loved you." Brother W. at first did not want to
to listen, and finally allowed himself to fall onto the chair. There was the eleventh commandment.
The sermon was deep and penetrating; the minister said nothing that in any way
could offend the brothers whose hospitality he had enjoyed; however, he said many
things that penetrated their hearts and made them feel that they had not acted
for with that stranger the charity he could have expected from disciples of Christ.

Finally, the service had ended. Mr. W. didn't know what he should do; never in his
life will feel so annihilated. Now the minister was coming down from the pulpit; Mr. W., however, did not
he went to meet him as was his custom; and how could he do it? Others did it
They searched, but he hesitated, keeping himself distant.

Where is Brother W.? Did he hear someone ask; it was the voice of the minister.

Here he is, some said, clearing the way to let him pass.

The minister approached him, took his hand and said: - Good morning, brother W., I appreciate
It's great to see you here. And where is sister W.?

Sister W. was brought forward, and the minister gave her a warm handshake.
having a kind smile on my lips. - I believe that I will be able to stay at your house today,
he said, as if this were already a decided matter. Before the brothers, embarrassed, him
they could answer, someone asked:

Why did you arrive so late, sir? You were expected here yesterday afternoon; and where is the
Brother R.?

Brother R. is sick, the minister replied, and I came alone. About eight away from here.
kilometers my horse got tired, and I had to walk the rest of the way. It was,
however, such intense cold and I was so tired that I found myself forced to resort to

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hospitality of a farmer who does not live very far from here, who had the
kindness of welcoming me into your home. I thought there was still five kilometers until this
local, but it seems to me that it was already closer to the end of my trip.
what I supposed. This explanation satisfied everyone; the congregation soon dissolved and the
The minister went to their house with the W. brothers.

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32 - The Forest Ranger and the Captain of Thieves
Years ago, there was a park ranger named Grimez, who lived alone.
retreat in the mountainous forests of Prussia. His family consisted of his wife, their
an old mother and a twelve-year-old daughter, more or less. The ladies were devout Christians,
but he was incredulous. He did not believe in God and often mocked prayers.
his wife, whom he said was a product of a "mad trust in God."

On a stormy autumn night, the wind whistled through the trees. The guard,
who left in the morning has not yet returned. The two women were sitting by the fire.
Because of your delay, they were already somewhat frightened. It was known that a gang
of thieves infested the woods, so there was indeed danger. The guard was
employee of the King of Prussia, and it was his duty to guard the forest despite all the
dangers. This gang, however, had already been arrested, with the exception of the leader, who had managed
to escape the guard's efforts. Now the great danger was that boss, who was angry at the
He guards that he will destroy the gang, swore vengeance. And why those women.
they knew this, your fear was entirely just. They were therefore anxious, unable to talk about
Another thing, until finally the older lady said:

It's not worth it to be talking like this and fearing so much about the head of our family:
it will be much better to seek comfort and peace in the Word of God and ask for protection from
Our Father who is in Heaven, without whose will not a hair falls from our head.
the woman then went to fetch the old Bible and read Psalm 71, aloud. The words
this Psalm served them as great comfort, just as it did for all those who in
identical circumstances, rely on the support of the Inspired Word. "In You, Lord,
I trust; may I never be confused... Be You my strong dwelling, to which I can turn.
constantly ... for You are my rock and my fortress. Deliver me, O my God,
from the hands of the unjust and cruel man.

After reading the Psalm, she read a hymn according to the words of David.
Then they knelt in fervent prayer, telling God their fears and
asking for Your powerful protection, on their behalf and for Your beloved who was in
danger size. They also prayed for the sick and the poor of the place and did not
they forgot to ask for God's grace in favor of the wrongdoers, especially
from the one who swore to exterminate the head of that family, so that God would change his
evil heart and diverted them from the wicked path. After making this prayer, it disappeared from them.
heart, as if by magic, all fear and apprehension. A little later they heard the
steps of the guard, who was approaching home. He was safe and sound. Everyone was very
satisfied and he no less so, for while they were in prayer like this, he had been
quite fearful for them, lest in his absence, the dangerous thief...
would surprise and kill.

Before they went to bed, the guard's wife told him how anxious they had become in
his absence, and of the prayer they had made to God to keep him in fulfillment
to duty, unharmed from dangers, and to keep them as well. He smiled, as
he always did when they spoke to him about God, and said that his wife was crazy, for
his prayers had no value at all. For his part, he preferred to trust in his weapons.
infallible and in their faithful dogs. And so he set about examining the doors and windows to see if
they were well shut, loaded his firearm and released the dogs, thinking then that
I could sleep peacefully, without fearing any harm.

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An hour later, when the whole family was already asleep, he came out from under a bench.
man of rough and fierce appearance. He was the feared thief. This man had penetrated into the
house in secret, at sunset, while there was no one at home, hiding
under that bench. There he remained listening to everything that was said about his
person. He had come there, as one can imagine, to take revenge, killing everyone.
family when it was sleeping. Now, therefore, he could carry out his plan. Ah!
but there was an obstacle. He quietly went to the table and put the sharp knife on it.
brought with her, took the Bible that the guard's wife had read at the evening service and that still
it was open to the Psalm that had been read. Those words had worked upon him
a prodigious effect. He then tried to read it in the weak light of the Moon, but did not
He succeeded, and closing the book, perplexed, by the table, did not know what to do, no matter how much
that tried to overcome his state of hesitation. Two or three times he picked up the knife to
to execute the tremendous design that had brought her there, but put it back on the table.
He thought of the comforting words of the Psalm and was afraid to commit the act. So he laid down another.
he saw the knife on the table and took the Bible with him, gently opened the window, and left
silently, as even the dogs sensed him. He then jumped over the fence and disappeared into the
darkness of the woods.

When in the morning the guard and the family came out of the room and found the window open and
the knife on the table, also noticing the disappearance of the Bible, were truly
surprised. The open window was a sign that someone had been home; the knife showed that
this person's plan was to kill; the lack of the Bible indicated that this precious book had
It was, in any case, the savior of the house. The whole house was examined, nothing was missing,
but, if not the Bible. Here is a mystery that challenged all ingenuity to understand it.
plausible explanation. The guard's wife fully expressed her joy and gratitude to the one who
it will save. Even the incredulous husband could not deny that neither the dogs nor the weapons them
they had saved. And he stopped laughing at the woman, thinking that, indeed, there is something
deep in religion.

After that night, nothing more was heard about the fearsome thief of that forest.
When it broke out, soon after, the war between Prussia and France, there was
bloody battles. Among those who fell on the battlefield was a captain
Prussian, who was none other than the forest ranger in this story. The soldiers
Prussians, assuming him dead, left him in the field. A fisherman, who
cautiously was passing nearby, heard the moans of the poor wounded man and docked the
his boat to the beach. Finding there, bathed in blood, the Prussian captain called a
they carried him to the boat, taking him to the other side of the river,
where there was a large number of huts. To one of them they directed their steps, in search of
help for the injured. The fisherman and his wife carefully tended to the captain.
good fisherman, believing it would be appropriate, wrote to the captain's wife,
inviting her to come take care of her husband and having she come in the company of the
daughter, settled in a nearby cabin, yielding hers to the captain with his family, until his
complete recovery.

During his illness, the captain thought of the marvelous salvation that God had worked.
on that memorable night. He also thought about the way he had been treated up to that point.
from your injuries. In all of this, he could see the hand of God and began to pray.
seriously, becoming a Christian.

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28 - The Young Merchant
33 - A Commander Who Honored the Sabbath
I met the captain of a whaleboat in the Pacific Ocean, whose name was Morgan.
A few days before embarking on his journey, Morgan accidentally entered a temple.
in which the Methodists were celebrating a meeting, which greatly influenced the
the later life of the commander. A change occurred in him such that, when he became
new to the sea, his old sailors could barely recognize him. He, who never
would command without making a terrible curse, refrained now for example by
fully capable of uttering any injurious word, and such is the influence of his character and his
example about your subordinates, that within a few months no man from
the entire crew dared to use inappropriate expressions when they thought
that these could reach the ears of the commander. The discipline of his ship nothing
suffered from it, on the contrary, everyone felt satisfied with the discretion and the
good conduct that reigned on board, and to which the good commander contributed
like your example.

The owner of the ship was a merchant from Sydney, who had several ships.
equipped for this service.

One night, while already on the hunt in the fishing seas, the young captain was reading.
calmly in the Bible in his booth, when, by chance, his eyes fell upon
the Ten Commandments. Focusing primarily on the command that orders the
observance of the rest of the seventh day, he asked himself whether it would be lawful for him to do
to haul the boats on a Saturday, in case a whale happened to appear in its
faced on that day. The words 'you shall not do any work in it,' were too clear to
they would admit any sophism, and he was determined to act in accordance with the
commandment of God, no matter the cost. However, remembering his
sailors, who did not have fixed salaries, and had to rely only on the share
those who were entitled to the olive harvest became apprehensive. They were going to revolt.
against him and to oppose him violently; so he could only wait for such an occasion
he would not offer himself on a Saturday. But if, however, that happened, he was
he resolved to fulfill his duty and to entrust the results to God.

Some time later, the ship arrived at the regions it required. Some time passed.
weeks without seeing a whale. Finally, on a Saturday afternoon, two hours
before sunset, the cry of the sailor from the crow's nest echoed aboard:

- There it is spitting the beast! There again! In a glance, everything was in motion.
Each group was preparing to moor their boat, and, for a moment, the young man
the commander wavered, but only for a moment.

As if at that moment a voice spoke in his ears, he clearly perceived in his


spirit the requirement of the precept: "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy," and with
a booming voice, which echoed from one end to the other, summoned the crew that day
the boats should not be lowered.

The scene that followed: the astonishment and then the fury of the crew when they learned of the
the reasons, the uproar and the turmoil that ensued, is something that cannot be described.
Nothing, however, could sway the commander, whose unyielding attitude caused that

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finally calm the spirits, but not before having promised them that in the future
would compensate them for their losses, giving them part of what was due to him.

The ship's owner will not agree to such a deal, the sailor told him.
that the greatest opposition had been made, following the commander to his cabin. Without
Doubt this is the first and the last ship you command. As for ours
Agreed, Mr. Commander, I would like to have it in writing, me and the whole crew.

The commander replied to him gently, warning him that an agreement made
on that day it would be to transgress the law, and promised to fulfill his request the next day.
There was a certain air of sadness in the way he spoke, because Morgan understood the truth.
what the sailor told him: The owner of the whaleboat would never consent to
to entrust him with another ship.

The sailor was a rough man of the sea, who had known his commander since the
childhood; he felt sorry for Mr. Morgan, whose motives, in this incident, he respected, and in
her simplicity of manners excused her to him for what she had told him regarding the
your share of the profits: Mr. Commander, you are not unaware that I have a wife and five
children to support, and when Providence presents us with a whale on a Saturday,
I think He does it so that we hunt Him.

The last words seemed to get stuck in his throat. Motionless and ecstatic,
he had his eyes fixed on an object that was in front of him. Morgan had thrown himself,
without saying a word, on a couch and, as I reflected on the consequences
probable from that incident, tried, revived by new hopes, to repeat
confidently the words: "Thy will be done." Thus some time had passed.
minutes, when a sudden scream awakened him from his reflections:

Commander, come quickly here and look at this!

Thus exclaiming, the sailor pointed to the object that had attracted his attention.
attention, as a look of terror was drawn on your face and at the same time
time of admiration and disbelief, when he came to see distinctly that the mercury
the barometric column rose rapidly. Morgan stood up and, having observed the
barometer, rushed to gather the crew. They could be pleased that they had not left the
ship in search of the whale, because, half an hour later it found itself engaged in a struggle
of life and death, with the elements, in a struggle that demanded all his energies and the
maximum efforts of all those who were on board. The storm lasted three days,
and when everything had returned to its normal situation, it was found that the lifeboat had
miles away from its fishing zone. To the great joy of everyone,
however, it was discovered that this was precisely one of the most frequented areas by
whales.

As soon as the storm calmed down, they found themselves in the midst of a large number of
magnificent cetaceans, two of which were soon harpooned and hoisted aboard.

With rare happiness, fishing continued during the following months, so that the
commander Morgan's ship, instead of returning two or three years later, which is the
time needed to complete the loading of a ship of regular capacity,
returned to Sydney in ten months. Thus, the firmness with which he acted

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commander, true to your duty and your conviction, far from causing you harm, you
gained such success that the ship's owner, very pleased with his return
the swift and rich cargo it carried gave it a free pass to act in the future as well
as you see fit in whale fishing.

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34 - How God Saved Two Children
Let’s entertain our little readers by telling them a true story about
two children who were wonderfully saved from the great flood that occurred in the valley
from the Willamette, in Oregon.

One afternoon, Uncle G ... came to Nettie and Maria Sanborn, bringing them the sad news.
that the aunt was seriously ill and might not live until the next day.

Nattie and Maria's mother hurriedly packed some things she needed, and after
reminded the eldest daughter that he left bread and milk in the pantry in quantity
enough for them to spend that afternoon and the following day, urged them to be good
During his absence, and bidding farewell to them, he said: "Goodbye, my daughters, God bless you."
It will have to protect until I return.

Nettie aspired to be a good girl, as her mother used to say, but she could hardly contain the
tears when he saw the car disappear around the bend in the road. Noticing, however, the
tears of little Maria, she restrained herself and prepared to comfort her little sister.

Don't cry, little Maria, God will protect us. Come, let's take care of our chicken and of
our little chicks and at night we will go to mommy's bed.

That was enough for Maria to find comfort and, taking her older sister's hand,
they both went towards the chicken coop, where they distributed abundant grains to their
dear little beings. After a few more turns around the yard, they returned to the house.
In the evening, where Nettie, lighting the fire, prepared the meal, which consisted of bread.
and milk. Having satisfied the demands of the stomach, both knelt down, commending themselves to
God, and then they climbed up to mommy's great and white bed, where, snuggled up
like two kittens, they soon fell asleep.

Late at night, Nettie was awakened by a strange noise, similar to the murmur of
great waters. Unraveling from the blankets, he lit the candle and headed towards the
door, in order to check what it was. But how surprised was he when, slightly opening
the door, saw the entire backyard transformed into a huge lake.

- Oh! Oh! she exclaimed, overwhelmed with terror; what should I do? The river has overflowed!
Remembering immediately of Maria, it occurred to him to go up to the attic with her,
where the waters probably would not reach.

Meanwhile, the flood was making its progress. Nettie, taking a blanket and
pillow, climbed up to the attic, coming back later to fetch Maria, who, upon hearing the roar
the waters let out frightened cries, yet calmed by her sister, who said to her
that they should not be afraid, for God would protect them.

Then it came to Nettie's mind that if that situation prolonged, they would be.
necessary some food. He went down again and, entering fearlessly into the
water, which had already invaded the house, headed to the pantry, from where it took a bowl with
milk, which took him up. Mia once had to go back to fetch the bread and a spoon and
the water was already up to his knees.

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Little Maria quickly fell asleep again; Nettie, however, could not.
sleep. He began to observe carefully the water, which was constantly increasing, until
that penetrated into mommy's bed and turned off the light. Then continued to listen to the noise of the
flood inside and outside the house; finally, your little heart can no longer contain itself
she, full of anguish, asked God to save her. And the Lord, in response to her
supplication, comforted her, reminding her of the promise she had often heard read by her mother:
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and the rivers will not overwhelm you.
Repeating the comforting promise, Nettie awaited the dawn of the day that had been
to bring the desired salvation.

At dawn, Nettie ran to peek through a small crack in the wall and saw
that everything was transformed into an ocean, with only the treetops protruding
the roofs of the houses. Through the twilight, however, a vessel could be seen
vapor that was coming towards the place to receive the people who had taken refuge
on the roofs and attics. On the deck of the vessel was a woman, who, moving restlessly
from one side to the other, now crying, now praying. Near the houses the sailors lowered
a boat steered by two shaken men rowed to the side of the house where it
Nettie and Maria were found. As they approached her, one of them said:

Nobody is here anymore.

No, the other replied, the house will soon collapse as it is already trembling.

But, listen! What is this?

The sound of a child's voice hurt their ears:

Jesus, Lord, my Redeemer,


In You I seek refuge;
Overturn the flood around
Jesus, say to me.

Did Jesus send you to look for us? Nettie asked, when two arms
vigorous ones took hold of them to collect them in the boat.

The simple faith of the little girl moved the heart of the rough sailor, who, by the way, did not
believed in God.

Yes, my daughter, he replied; one more moment and it would have been too late. There it goes!
house!

Minutes later, they were collected aboard the vessel, where the mother, with great
joy and thanksgiving, she embraced them.

Consider, dear children, how God cares for those who trust in Him and how He listens to the
prayers in the greatest dangers.

Adorn this beautiful verse, which is also a promise from God for all of you:
Call upon Me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver you.

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35 - About a Bridge
The Widow's Coins

When I cross the Rhône, over the little bridge of the Lyceum, I am sure to see under the
arch of the first pillar, to the right, an old blind man sitting in a bad chair of
straw, bringing on his chest a sign that indicates the cause of his blindness; and, near
them, a modest dog, its faithful handler, holding in its jaws the strap of a small
leaf bucket, intended to receive the offering from passersby.

The blind man has a sympathetic, healthy appearance, although sad. The features are regular,
almost beautiful; the beard is white, wavy, just like the hairs that escape him,
still abundant, under the old worn hat.

Your large white eyes, without sight, without life, like those of a statue, cause
painful impression; we feel like fleeing from them, then we seek them again, despite.
ours is, as we go, we carry your sad image.

Melancholy cloaked the pale face of this castaway with its peculiar veil.
life, whose head, worthy of serving as a model to a master, tilts slightly over
the left shoulder, in the attitude of resignation, of daydreaming.

Yes! If the physical gaze is extinguished under those white eyebrows, the gaze of thought must-
to illuminate and caress under this broad forehead, polished like ivory, the panorama of days
happy, without shock, without shadows, days of fortune spent with loved ones that
they no longer exist.

It should be so, for one morning I surprised a silent tear tracing its wet
groove on the pale face of the elderly.

Tears of affectionate and poignant feeling, without a doubt, as only they shed.
those who loved very much, who suffered very much; and who, like the diamond, mutilate themselves
own heart, in order to draw closer through remembrance, with a greater purity,
of those they lost, who perhaps did not know how to love as they should have done, and
for this they will always cry.

My blind man, perhaps resigned, but certainly not consoled, had a companion and
children: a big boy, his pride; two gentle girls, his joy. One day, the
death came to strike, like a bird of prey, upon the home filled with joyful pleasures,
full of life, and snatched the mother and the children from the nest, leaving it alone and crazy with pain.

So, similar to the leaf torn from the tree by the cold north wind, the unfortunate one, chased away
from his roof by adversity, he became an unconscious and suffering being; they saw him alone,
wandering without hope and without purpose, until the day he came, sadly, to sit down under
the arch of the pillar of the suspension bridge.

Here is what they told me about my sick friend, the silent hermit by the small bridge.

On that day - it was last week - it was very cold; the north wind was blowing with a humming sound.
On the banks of the river, pushing here and there flakes of snow ripped from the roofs of the
houses that line the docks. Few passersby in the streets and squares, except for people

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occupied, walking with a hurried pace and not stopping to look at whatever
ditch.

I was going home, and as usual, I was heading across the Liceu bridge; I went up the
steps that gave access to the bridge deck, which I felt rise and fall
proportion that advanced, as the wind strengthened at that moment; it was around
eleven o'clock in the morning.

Not even a pawn with me; I was going alone, with my head down, hooded, to preserve
two insults from the air. I was thinking of my poor sick person, what could well happen to him
in this harsh winter season, and how could he provide for his modest
needs, when, having reached a few steps from the first pillar, I paused to
contemplate an unprecedented painting: a touching scene, one of the most surprising, in its
truly evangelical greatness.

Roasting in the buzzing of the frigid northeast, the blind man and the dog were in their place.
, and with them was a very poorly dressed woman. I recognized her.
like a resident of the block. A widow and old, she lived equally alone and collected
rags, which he sold to support himself.

Curved over its open bag, almost full of leftovers of all sorts, she took from it a
package made of newspaper, containing scraps of meat and bread, coming from the leftovers of
some restaurant; chose a good portion of them, which he gave to the dog he had taken away
previously the small bucket, which he had placed on the old man's knees.

Having done this, satisfied to see the happy animal eat, which showed its appreciation.
by joyful growls, then took out of the pocket of her worn and torn dress an old
blue checkered handkerchief, one of the corners of which was tied.

He untied the knot with the help of the others and took out of this improvised hiding place, this bag.
the poor man, three nickel coins, all he had to live on, and then
delicately, without producing the slightest sound, in the small container of leaf.

Then, replacing the bag on his right shoulder, he left after having greeted the
invalid with a warm "good morning," bestowing a final caress to his dog.

All this happened in a very short time, certainly less than I spend on
to relate it. Only the angel of charity could gather all the details of this alms so
simple and so greatly generous, to consign them in the memorial that will be opened
shortly to be read in praise of this noble soul, and of all those
that, like her, had given not an insignificant part of their surplus, but even the
what they needed.

Then, I passed, in turn, in front of the blind man, and also put in the little bucket the
testimony of the charity that the Lord taught me to practice towards my brother
unfortunate - a less excellent offering, I confess, than that of the widow, whose noble action me
I will bring to mind these verses from the Gospel of St. Luke, chapter 21:1-4:

As Jesus looked up, he saw the rich putting their gifts into the offering box.

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"And he also saw a poor widow who was putting in two coins."

And he said: Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them.
others.

For all these gave to God offerings of what they had in abundance; but
she gave all that she had left for her sustenance from her own indigence.

It was told to us that what should particularly distinguish the children of God in
in recent days, it is charity.

Oh! It really cools down among them. That is why the Lord places us under His eyes.
admirable examples, which may perhaps be thrown in our face on the day of rewards,
that is very close. The apostle St. Paul exclaims, at the end of the first epistle to the
Now, therefore, these three remain: faith, hope, and charity;
but the greatest of these is charity.

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36 - Prayer Answered
In a beautiful picturesque country house, not far from the city of B... lived Mr.
Sander. A distinguished man and devout Christian, he found a wife who shared
of those same gifts. She, as a loyal and dedicated companion, helped him to raise and educate
the children for the Lord, for they considered them a blessing from Him. Since early
age had accustomed them to humiliate themselves before the throne of grace, before God
to implore for oneself the wisdom and strength promised by Him to the faithful.

To those who knew these children more closely, there was no doubt that the
the tireless efforts of their parents had produced blessed fruits. The children
they were obedient, kind to one another, benevolent and modest towards strangers. Life
the intimacy of this family was considered a model of family life. Order and cleanliness.
dominated the whole house. Nevertheless, the care with which the servants were
accustomed to work, diligence, care, and the faithful use of their time, they knew
you assess the superiority of this Christian family and the privilege of being able to serve it, only the
abandoning when they were coerced by necessity. It is natural that the desires of
worldly pleasures and joys did not last long in the family home
Sander. Every day the members of this family and their affiliates gathered to read the
Word of God; with prayer they began the daily reading and with prayer they ended it.
These were moments of blessings, of revitalization and strengthening. The Lord is good
He stops among such families; and even when He sends them trials, He provides
it also gives them strength to endure them.

It was the harvest time. On a stormy night, the sweet peace of this home was disturbed.
by loud hammer blows, which thundered against the outer gate. A servant rushed
upon opening it, finding himself in the presence of two strong men. Handing over to the
a note was created, they told him, in a harsh and rude tone:

Take this letter to your master and bring us the answer immediately. Here at
We're waiting. Hurry up!

Not a little astonishment seized the servant, in light of the singular manners of these.
strange, but promised to satisfy them and return as soon as possible. Entering the room
of visits, where the family was gathered, he delivered the letter; he paused to observe
attentively his master while he read the letter to see if by the expression of his
the face was guessing its content. Also the mother and the children formed a group around
A great unease took hold of the father when he saw their faces turn pale.
of the owner of the house.

We have here, he said, a document whose content is not very pleasant for us. However,
my dear ones, do not be alarmed; because precisely on this occasion we can say,
Convicts: "If God is for us, who can be against us?" Cheer up and I will read you the letter:

Sir!

At the door of your house stands the leader of a group of men who fear nothing and desire
that before dawn 75,000 francs be placed at the garden gate; in case
the opposite will be your elegant building, still tonight, a prey of the flames.

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The boss.

- O Lord of Heaven, help us! exclaimed in tears the lady of the house, upon having her husband
finished reading the letter. The children were crying and the servants, by this time all already
gathered, they trembled as if they could already hear the crackling of the flames; only the father remained
calm. After a few moments of meditation, he took the pen and traced the following lines:

Lord!

Your imperious order demands an immediate response. I will not submit to your will. If
for the designs of Providence that my house be destroyed by flames, I hope
I can say: 'Lord, let Your will be done!' but I have the conviction that the Lord does not
He has the power to do it. God is omnipotent and, whatever His will may be, I will respect it.

Sander.

At that moment, the hammering against the outer door was repeated and one of the servants
he hurried to bring his master's answer to the strangers. In the dull light of a lantern
the men read the writing and then, in a threatening tone, said to the employee:

Recommend us to your master and tell him that we will soon render him our
homage. That said, the two strangers left.

Only the servant returned to the reception room, causing Mr. Sander to close carefully.
all the doors and said:

Let us go, on our knees, to worship the Almighty, without whose will not even one will fall.
hair on our head.

Everyone obeyed and fervently followed the master in his prayer,


recommending the whole house to the protection of God, the Almighty God and Defender. A
the prayer could not fail to be answered because it was fervent and came from a heart
full of faith. They rose up strengthened, waiting for the moment of trial and
trusting in the Lord. Did He not say: 'I will not leave you, nor forsake you?' And by
we are also given to confidently affirm "In God I have placed my
trust; I will not fear what man may do to me.

It was midnight. There was no chance of expecting help from the city, given the
distance, and because they do not want to risk being captured by the criminals,
they could not use the big bell on this occasion, as it had been removed a few days ago, for
needed repair. It seemed beforehand that everything was arranged to show them that
only God could save them. From time to time the strong wind would pass through
thunders, shaking the building, as if wanting to amplify the horrors of this night
terrifying.

But, what happened? It must have been two in the morning. Lightning and thunder announced the
proximity of a strong storm. Electric sparks occurred continuously and
Mournfully, the rumble of thunder thundered through the air. If you could see this family now!
Everyone seemed to be filled with a strong resolve. In the face of the imminence of this new
danger seemed that everyone had forgotten the robbers and their threats. Suddenly a

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the rifle illuminated the space for a moment, followed by something astonishing and formidable
the explosion that shook the entire building at its foundations.

A lightning bolt struck! exclaimed one of the servants; the barn is on fire!

And indeed it was so: the mentioned dependency was engulfed in flames, but it was found
happily at some distance from the main body of the building. Besides this, the last of the
thunder. The storm had gradually eased, the gale had ceased and a quarter of
At that hour, there was a great movement outside, and the voices of...
neighbors, attracted by the fire. Mr. Sander and his people were also heading to
barn on fire. But imagine their astonishment! Upon arriving, they found the little
distance from the barn with the corpse of a man, having no trace of having
was struck by the flames. Examined by the servants, they recognized him as a
two strange bearers of the mentioned letter. It was indeed the fearsome criminal,
leader of the bandits, killed by an electric spark at the moment of trying to carry out his
sinister project and then abandoned by its henchmen when they saw it fall, already a corpse.

Thanks to the help of the neighbors, the fire was soon extinguished.
So Mr. Sander reported to them the strange and frightening events of that
night. The surprise seized everyone. As they removed the body of the bandit,
they found in their pockets, among other papers, one that gave them indications of the
likely refuges of their accomplices and had already disturbed the tranquility for some time
from those places, so that they can be handed over to justice.

What is exposed if evidence, for it is not difficult for God to save the believer from
claws of wickedness and that the Eternal never abandons those who love Him, undoing the
machinations of the wicked.

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37 - The Interrupted Sermon
One afternoon, my friend, a minister of the Gospel, and I were engaged in conversation.
in his study room. A biblical text, embroidered on fabric, that hung from a
the walls caught my attention. It was the passage that is read in the first epistle of
Apostle St. Peter, chapter 1, verses 24 and 25.

All flesh is like grass and all the glory of man like the flower of the grass. The grass has withered
The grass withers and its flower falls, but the Word of the Lord endures forever.

What magnificent embroidery, I exclaimed, it is an admirable work!

Yes, indeed, replied the friend, but even more admirable is God's providence that this
passage recalls.

Really? I replied to him, and perhaps I would be indiscreet if ...

Oh, no! she kindly interrupted me, I will be more than happy to tell you the story.

- About 25 years ago, more or less, I was doing my novitiate in the ministry. I believe I can
to affirm that I preached the Gospel according to my best understanding,
although my knowledge was still quite limited. I understood that, to produce a good
sermon, it was above all necessary to exercise myself in rhetoric and elegant expressions
of eloquence. Now, no one will want to argue that rhetoric and eloquence are
Things to be despised in a sermon; I, however, exceeded in these things.
My vanity was completely satisfied when, by the beauty and happiness of the expression and
by the power of eloquence, I managed to captivate my audience, especially those from the class
higher. I chose therefore subjects that best lent themselves to development
of the oratory, and dedicated almost all the time, during the week, to the preparation of my
sermons, which, after being carefully refined and polished, were, word by word,
collected in memory. As a result, my preachings were very superficial
and the simple and clear truths of the Gospel, which speak of sin, justice, and judgment,
if I ever mentioned them, they would be buried under the avalanche
of rhetorical flowers, which made the essence of my sermons. My dear wife many
sometimes she used to tell me:

- I fear that with your sermons you will convert more people into your worshippers than into
followers of Jesus.

- Why, my beloved? I asked curiously, did my sermon not please you?


this morning?

- I’m not saying I didn’t like you,


Well, everything you said is not untrue; however, there are still so many truths.
important in the Gospel that you never mention and that I consider very necessary!

She had a habit of taking her fears and worries in prayer to God and begging Him
that would teach me to guide those who are dead in sins and transgressions to Him
unique and good Savior.

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I approved the Lord to grant the supplications of my dear wife. One Saturday morning
I was preaching as usual to a large audience. I was about to do exactly to my
listeners a brilliant description of the sunset on the Sea of Galilee, when suddenly,
A girl fainted in the room due to the stuffy air. The disturbance
this caused, although momentary and without greater importance, made me lose the thread of
my speech. The rest of the sermon completely escaped me, so I could no longer
to remember the word. In my great perplexity, I prayed to God to help me, and to the
lowering my eyes to the Bible, which was open before me, I found them on the
the passage that you see there suspended from the wall. Then obeying an impulse
involuntary, I read it to my listeners and began to discourse on it, as I
I devoted my heart. However, as I was deprived of my collection of rhetorical flowers,
I could only expose the truths of the divine Word in all its simplicity and
clarity. Seeking to align the text with the first part of the sermon, I compared man to
Sun that sets to never rise again. I reflected on the vanity of things.
humans, about the certainty of final destruction, about the coming judgment and the inevitable
condemnation of those who remain in their sins. In a word, I did not hold back.
none of God's counsels, which offer us death and destruction in Adam; in
Christ, however, salvation and eternal life.

When I returned home that day, my wife was shedding tears of joy. She assured
I had never heard such a touching sermon. However, I found myself in a state of
despairing spirit; I was ashamed of myself 'The audience must have noticed the
your embarrassment.' I was saying to myself, 'what comments your
case because of breaking the thread in the middle of the speech. This was, without a doubt, one of
the worst sermons that have ever been heard from any pulpit.

As soon as we entered the house, a lady asked to speak to me. The impression that her
the exterior produced in me was not the most favorable. I dressed extravagantly and
the great abundance of income and jewels that she wore on her body gave her an appearance
unfunny.

- Dear sir, he said to me with trembling lips, may I speak to you confidentially?

Yes, my lady.

- I'm a bad woman, she then said, breaking into tears, but you can
Perhaps tell me if there is still salvation for me, who for so long have
led a useless life.

Then he told me his story. He enjoyed high esteem in the circles he frequented;
I lived, however, without God and without Christ in this world, where the clothes and entertainments
were his only delight. He didn't attend churches, but could be found in the
theaters and banquet halls. Having gone out for a walk that Saturday morning, your
attention was aroused by the singing she heard while passing by the chapel. It then occurred to her that
idea of entering and watching the worship. I had arrived in time to hear what glory is
of the man. My preaching, he said, had pierced his heart like a double-edged sword.
gum. He recognized that in all its beauty it was similar to the flower that wilts, that
She was dead, lost without salvation and without hope. She then asked me to speak to her.
but about this Savior of whom I had preached as the only one who can us.
redeem from perdition.

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It may not be necessary to tell you, the friend continued, how much joy I spoke to you with.
of Christ, until his eyes beheld His glory. Soon after, he became a member of
Our church, on this occasion, offered me that embroidered text.

- And what about your sermons? I asked, curious.

The Lord answered me with a smile, helped me to gather this lesson that I will never forget.
I have forgotten, namely: that rhetoric and eloquence can be excellent in a
sermon, but without the eloquence of the Word of God, which speaks to us of the love of Him who
died for our sins, they will never take a soul to its one and faithful Shepherd.

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38 - Well Understandable
After the battle of Gettysburg, I entered the room where my son, a young officer, was.
wounded and already at death's door. Upon my arrival, he awakened from his lethargy and,
motioning for me to come closer to the bed, she threw her arms around my neck.

My father, how happy I am to see you here. I feared that you would not come anymore.
time. I am very down to be able to speak, yet I have so much to say to you! What
What news do you bring me about my good mother and my sister?

From the residents of the house, I was informed that there were no more hopes of saving it.
there.

Tormented by doubt and uncertainties, I went directly to the doctor:

What do you say about my son's condition, doctor?

- It is a lost cause. There is no longer any way to save him. Everything that art and the ...
human solicitations, has been employed. Your son was a valiant soldier, who
earned great esteem in the army and among all who know him, but now is at
death. Shortly after the amputation of the limb, gangrene manifested itself, which has resisted
all means employed to combat it.

How much longer do you think you will live?

Four days at most; however, death can come at any moment, for it exists.
the danger of the rupture of some artery, to which he would inevitably have to succumb. If you sir
If you intend to do something for him, you should do it now!

Has the doctor, or anyone else, ever revealed the truth about your condition?

No, sir, we understand we must leave you with such a painful task, for the
we were expecting at any moment.

Returning to the room with this poignant news, which was tearing my soul apart, the
my son's eyes fixed on me.

Sit here close to me, my father; did you talk to the doctor about my condition?

Yes.

What did he say to you? Do you think I will recover?

There followed some moments of anguished silence.

Don't hesitate to tell me what he revealed to you.

He told me that you will die.

And how much time do you think I still have to live?

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Four days at most; however, it warns that death can come at any moment,
Seeing the danger of the rupture of some artery, to which you would not resist.

Making then an effort over himself, he said:

- Is this true, my father? Must I die? Oh, it can't be, I can't die,
I am not prepared for death! Tell me how I should prepare myself to be able to
face the same; tell me, however, in a way that I can understand it. Tell me in
few words, so that I can see clearly. I know that you know it, because you already.
has made it known to others.

The moment was not for tears, but required calm and clarity in order to guide the soul.
to Christ: both things were obtained by the father.

I see, my son, that you fear death.

Yes, I fear, my father.

I must assume, therefore, that you feel guilty.

That's right, I was a reckless young man. You know how it is in the army.

You wish to achieve forgiveness, is that not so?

Oh, yes, it's what I aspire to, and I will be able to obtain it, my father?

Without a doubt.

Will I be able to be sure of the same before I die?

Yes.

So tell me how, but say it clearly so that I can understand it.

Suddenly, a fact from the time when my son was still in school came to my memory.
classes. It had been several years since I last remembered it. Now, however, if
clearly presented to my mind, providing exactly what I needed
to guide the troubled heart of my son to his only Savior.

Do you still remember a day when, having given me reasons to blame you, you
Did you exalt yourself to the point of addressing me with bitter words?

Yes, my father, just a few days ago, when he was waiting for your arrival here, remembered...
I was saddened by this fact, wishing that you were here to
to ask you once again for forgiveness.

Do you still remember how, after that first access, you came back to me regretful?
And, throwing yourself around my neck, you said: "My father, it weighs heavily on me to have offended you."
It wasn't your son who did this to you, it happened in a moment of ecstasy. You want
forgive me for my offense?

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I remember very well.

Do you also remember what I told you when you were crying in my arms?

Yes, you answered: "My son, I forgive you from the heart," and kissed me. I will never forget.
to forget those words.

Did you grow it?

Yes, I have never doubted them.

Did you feel happy then?

- Oh, very much! And since then I have loved you even more. I cannot forget the
the satisfaction I experienced when, gazing at me with a look of tenderness, you
I forgive you from the heart.

Well then, my son, this is exactly how you should go to Jesus. Confess to Him the
despite the sorrow you feel for the sins you have committed, just as you confessed them to me, and He will
He will forgive a thousand times faster than the love of a father did. He says he will do it; you must
believe, then, Your word, just as you believed mine.

Is this how we come to become Christian, my father?

I don't know another.

Oh, I understand! How glad I am to have you here to teach me!

Then he turned his head on the pillow as if to rest. I, however, unable to


but to dominate me, I let myself fall into a chair and started to cry. My part
it was done, I entrusted the rest to the Lord and, as I soon observed, He did not fail to
fulfill His as well. The contrite heart had made its confession and heard from Him the
desired words: "Your sins are forgiven;" and he believed them. Some
Moments only, and the new birth had taken place; the troubled heart had
made a brief prayer, and, believing in the words of God, experiencing His power
regenerator. A soul had passed from darkness to the wonderful light and from the power of
sin is from the devil to God. Soon I felt a trembling hand touch me and a voice uttering
the word 'father' in such a repeated and sweet tone, that I was sure that the change
was operated on.

My dear father, do not cry. I am happy, Jesus forgave me. I know He did, because the
Your word says it and I believe it. I no longer fear death. However, if it pleases God
grant me life, I still wish to live to take care of you and my mother; if, however,
I must die, I fear nothing, because Jesus has forgiven me. And now, my father, I ask that you pray.
with me.

We prayed together and our prayer was answered.

My father, I am very happy. Now I believe that I will heal again, I already feel better.

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From that moment on, all the symptoms changed, the pulse diminished and its appearance
was reporting improvements.

Soon after, the doctor entered, finding him cheerful and happy. He looked at him, took his...
he pulsed and said:

The lord is better.

I am better, doctor, and I will recover. God heard my prayer.

At night, three surgeons gathered for a conference in which the case was judged.
completely lost; one of them said goodbye to my son showing none
hope I had of seeing him again.

The next morning, the other two doctors returned to, as usual, do the
wound treatment. When they removed the bandages, however, they recoiled in shock, and raising
hands to the heavens, they exclaimed:

Oh, God! What miracle is this! The gangrene has disappeared; your son will live; God
answered your prayers.

Yes, doctor, my son replied, I told you yesterday that I believed that there would be
Sara, because I confessed to Jesus my desire to live to do some good.
I knew that He had answered my prayers and now the Lord can convince Himself.
Thus. Praise the Lord with me!

Meanwhile, the telegraph had brought the distressing news to our home: "our son
dies, covering the heart of the family with struggle and sadness. The next day, however, a
the second telegram announced to them: 'our son will live and is happy in Christ,' and to the mourning
and sadness was succeeded by joy and jubilation.

Now he lives, surrounded by honor and prosperity, as a member of the church of Christ and
father of a blessed family, dedicating all his time to the service of his
Creator.

This experience also benefited me, making me a better man and better
servant of Christ.

I never forgot the lesson my son taught me in those words: "Say it clearly to
that I can understand it.

I made her the foundation of many of my sermons, and God crowned them with success.

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For the Love of Christ
As I approached the door to see who was knocking, I came face to face with a - bum!
As if I had never sympathized with this class of being, I have also never treated it.
kindly. It naturally asked for food, to which I replied that I would bring it to him,
not inviting him, however, to enter. Going back inside in order to fetch him
I thought to myself: "I'll give her the pudding that is no longer fresh"
and a piece of yesterday's bread; it was good not to have thrown it to the chickens yet, as
"I was thinking this morning." Then the following words from the Bible came to my mind:
"Lent to the Lord ... He will reward you." In a glimpse I understood all the
the baseness of the action I was about to take. I then remembered the long list of similar acts.
that he had already practiced and that the angels had surely taken note in the books of
Heaven. "The Lord will reward you according to what they deserve!"

Oh! What a treasure was I amassing for myself in Heaven!

This thought impressed me so much that I began to tremble, barely being able to
standing. Returning to the door, I invited the stranger to come in and warm himself by the stove.
from the room, because it was cold. I then noticed that his shoes were torn and the jacket
It bore traces of long use. Calling my husband aside, I said to him:

João, you have here a pair of socks and a pair of shoes that you no longer use, and maybe they can.
serve him; give it to him, I ask you.

- But Manda, what is this? my husband retorted. I thought you were bothering the bums and
now ...

Do me this favor, João, do it for the love of me.

Meanwhile, I had prepared a dish of excellent soup, which I placed on the table.
together with other delicacies that we still had at home, and I invited him to dinner.
He, however, replied to me:

Madam, I do not dare to sit at such a clean table as this; please, allow me
I ask that you wash me first.

Having washed and straightened his tangled hair, he sat at the table to do
honor to the supper that I had prepared for you. I then noticed that a tear was sliding down her
I had to turn away from him to hide mine.

After finishing the meal, he thanked deeply and said goodbye, when my husband...
he presented it to him and said:

I have a coat here that I wish to give you because it is cold and you might need it.
his need.

After having thanked once again, he asked, moved:

Why do they treat a vagabond like that? to which I replied: - It is for the love of Christ.

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So he continued and said: - They are the first Christians I have encountered since I
My wife passed away. She was an angel, and how proud I was of my two little children!
My mother was also a Christian, who never stopped praying for her son. When she
died, I became a drunkard and the rest can be imagined. My wife died of
despite my little children being taken from me. I then surrendered to the vagabond life in which
they see me and I started to hate those who attended the church, because they did not treat me
better than the others too. Today, however, I am convinced that there is still
true Christians in the world and, oh! I have an immense desire to become a Christian
also. Could I, who am such a great sinner, still be forgiven?

Yes! I exclaimed, Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners.

So, He came to save me too, replied the stranger; with the grace of
God, I will start a new life.

Before he left, we still prayed together and I can say I have never felt such peace.
deep as since that moment.

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40 - I Don't Care
A temperance league that had been organized in St. Louis, in the United States,
requested a small contribution from a wealthy farmer in the neighborhood. His response
This is something that does not matter to me.

A few days later, the farmer went to the train station to


waiting for his wife and their two little daughters, who were supposed to arrive that day. He was just going
thinking with visible contentment about your state of prosperity, when,
arriving at the station, his attention was drawn away from that subject by the word
"derailment," which sounded to his ears.

Could some misfortune have happened? Mr. X. began to feel uneasy. This time the
it mattered to him.

At moments your questions managed to reveal that, about 50 kilometers away from there, there was
a railway disaster occurred. Immediately telegraphed to S. Luís.

500 dollars for a locomotive!

Response: - Impossible.

1,000 dollars for a locomotive?

Response: - Available machines have just departed, taking doctors to the site of the
sinister.

Pale with emotion, Mr. X began to pace the platform of the station.
Half an hour passed that felt like an eternity. After all, the train arrived.

In a freight car, which had been converted into an ambulance, the unfortunate farmer
found the mutilated bodies of his wife and one daughter, and in the other car his
second daughter in a desperate state.

Decidedly: The case mattered to him!

And what was the cause of this disaster?

Some glasses of cachaça that one of the employees had taken.

Who would dare to claim that the issue of alcohol does not concern them?

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41 - How a Beautiful Hymn Originated
The following touching event determined the composition of the beautiful hymn that
we transcribe here the first stanza:

"If I feel the divine peace in my heart,


Let the storm roar outside;
For a light illuminates my path,
And my peace with God is perennial.

In the city of Chicago, there were two girls who showed such care for their ...
a religion that persistently asked the parents to allow them to join the church to
we will meet before leaving your homeland in order to spend some time in
England. The parents initially hesitated, considering them still too young to
they granted such a solemn step; after all, however, they consented to his burning desire and shortly before
they were solemnly received in the church and took communion.

Some days later, the two girls were, in the company of their mother, aboard
ship bound for England.

It was the ill-fated Ville de Havre.

With their courteous and affable manners, they quickly gained the esteem of everyone.
onboard passengers had quickly acquired a large number of friends,
among them a young Frenchman, who did not part from them. Unfortunately, however, it was
man without religion, and often his language seemed strange to them
reverent about sacred things. One day, the oldest girl happened to be reading
the Holy Scriptures, when the young Frenchman approached her, asking her
devoutly, she was also a little saint. The girl did not respond to her;
fitou, however, with a gaze so serious that he could never forget it. Saddened by
those irreverent words and the tone in which they had been spoken, went to her sister,
to whom he reported the incident, warning him that it was not advisable to maintain further relations
with the French, because he was a man who did not love God and mocked Him
Word.

A few days later, the fatal collision occurred, which led to the near submersion.
immediate from the Port of Havre. There was no time to save the passengers, who perished.
almost all drowned. Among the victims were also these two interesting ones
girls, who bravely faced death, because they rested in
arms of your Savior.

Some time later, the poor mother, pierced with pain, conveyed the following to the father
"Only I was saved." His pain was great upon receiving such a poignant news; in a
night his hair turned white. However, he consoled himself from such a deep blow,
with the peace of God that was poured into his chest, as he himself expresses it in those
verses:

If I feel the divine peace in my chest,


Let the storm roar outside;

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For a light illuminates my path,
And my peace with God is eternal.

A few years later, there was a religious meeting in France where the believers reported
their experiences and gave their testimonies. There arose among them also a
young Frenchman, to give in praise of God a testimony of His goodness, referring
how he came to become a believer. He reported that he was one of the passengers on the Ville de Havre,
In which he had met with two religious girls.

He was then a man without beliefs; the constant relationships, however, that he entertained with
Those girls, their devotion and piety, made a deep impression on him. He reported
so the case of the girl reading the Scriptures and how they mocked her, receiving in
a single glance, but so sad and full of reproach that it could never be
forget. When he was debating in the water, that gaze would constantly follow him.
Then the mind would grant him all his past and in the anguish of his heart he had promised.
to serve the God of those children, if He would deign to save him from the water. And, indeed, the
will save not only from the grave in the waters but also from spiritual death. Now,
I trusted and believed in your Savior Jesus.

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42 - A True Story of the Life of a Woman
Rising up suddenly in the assembly, she spoke thus: "Tired of a drunkard?"
Yes; I was the wife of a drunkard. Pay attention to me! I'm speaking to the young ladies.

We all turned and listened to her. She was a pale woman with dark eyes and
sad, white hair neatly arranged on a forehead that denoted intelligence.

"Marrying a drunkard, I reached the peak of misery," she continued. "I was young and
Oh! So unhappy! I married the man I loved and he claimed to love me too.
He was a drunk, and I knew it - I knew it, but I couldn't assess how much that was. Nor was there a
Only the young person present who knows it, unless she has a drunk person in the family; in such
perhaps you know how deep is the heartache that invades the soul of a woman who
but it is united with a drunkard - whether he is a father, husband, brother, or son. Young women
believe me when I tell you that marrying a drunkard is the height of all
misery. I have suffered the experience and I know it. I acquired the horrible knowledge at the cost of
happiness, of sanity, and almost of life itself. Marvel you at how my hair
they became white? They turned that way one night, bleached by heartbreak, like
Maria Antonieta said about her own. I am not forty years old, however, the snow
of seventy over my head and in my heart. Ah! I cannot begin to
count the winters that oppress them,

My husband was a professional. His job often took him out of the house at night,
and when he came back, he was drunk. Gradually, he began to give in to temptation during the
day, until he rarely stopped being drunk. I had two beautiful daughters and a
son. "Here, her voice changed, and we sat, listening to the story in deep
silence. "My husband had been drinking too much, and it had been two days since
I did not see him; he had left home. One night I was sitting at the head of my bed.
son, who would fall ill; the two girls were sleeping in the adjoining room when I heard my
husband to penetrate, upon arriving at home, in another room that was beyond. This chamber
communicated with the one in which mine were. I don't know why, but a
a feeling of terror took hold of me, and I felt that my daughters were in danger.
I got up and headed over there. The door was closed. I knocked frantically, but did not
I received a response. I seemed to be endowed with superhuman strength, and throwing myself with
All the force against the door, it gave in and swung wide open. Oh, what a scene! Horrible.
"frame!" she lamented with a voice that still afflicts me; and covered her face with the
hands, and when she took them off, she was paler and sadder than ever.

Delirium tremens! You have never seen it, girls; and may God allow that you never see it.
husband was behind the bed, his eyes had the bright fixity of madness. 'Take them!'
he cried, 'these horrible things; they are all crawling in front of me! Take them away,
I already said it!' and brandished the knife in the air. Indifferent to the danger, I threw myself onto the bed, and,
Suddenly my heart seemed to stop beating. There lay my daughters, covered.
of blood, murdered by their own father! For a moment, I could not utter a
word. I was completely rendered speechless by my terrible pain. I could hardly pay attention
to the crazy man who was next to me - the man who had brought me all the misfortune. I gave
So a resounding shout and my moans echoed in space. The servants heard me.
and hurriedly went to the room; upon seeing them, my husband suddenly
he ran the knife across his own throat. I saw nothing more. I was led, fainted, out of the room
that contained the corpses of my daughters, brutally murdered, and that of my

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husband. The next day, my hair was white and my spirit in such a way
disturbed that I didn't know anyone.

She paused. Our eyes were fixed on her pale face. Some women
they cried out loud, while there was only one person whose eyes were dry, in this
temperance session. We noticed that she hadn't just finished speaking; she was only
hoping to master the emotion to conclude the story.

For two years,


I dedicated myself to taking care of my son. But the father's addiction manifested in the son and there are six
he, at eighteen years of age, was taken to the grave, a victim of drink; and when
I, your extreme mother, was left alone and saw earth piled over him, I exclaimed: 'Thank you for
God! I prefer to see him here than to have him alive, drunk, and I returned to my desolate home - a
woman without children, a woman upon whom the hand of misfortune has heavily fallen.

Girls, it is to you that I wish to free from the fate that caught me by surprise. Do not ruin your
life as I ruined mine; do not make the madness of marrying a drunkard.
Do you love him? The worse for you; for marrying him, the greater will be your
misery because of your love. You say that after marriage you will correct it? Ah! a
the woman sadly diminishes her prestige when she undertakes to do that. It is not
a competitor for him, I assure you. What is your weak influence compared to his?
huge force? He will crush you the same way. It was to save us, girls, from
disappointments that ruined my happiness, which I told you my story. I am strange.
in this big city. I am just passing through; and I have a message for
Each girl: Never accept a drunkard as your husband.

I could see her then, as she was there among the calm assembly, her dark eyes.
shining and her body trembling with emotion as she made the passionate plea. Then
she left, and we never saw her again. Her words were, in any case,
unfruitful, and because of them there is at least one single girl.

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43 - Terrible Consequences of a Pernicious Vice
On a mild October afternoon, ten or twelve people from the class were gathered.
abundant, all young women, in a house in Missouri. They were in the living room.

Among them was also a maiden, who, although very spirited and
social, always wore mourning. Her name was Mara (bitter), a name she gave herself
chosen to express the bitterness of his life, and this since he had lost, seven or
eight years, all of your family.

It was ten thirty at night when one of the guests pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket and it
threw on the table around which everyone was gathered.

The effect of this act was surprising in Mara Moor. Her face turned pale, she trembled, and
suddenly, he stood up, went to sit in a chair placed in one of the corners
extremes of the room. The action was so abrupt that everyone noticed it, although they
they ignored the cause.

Delicately, and making her see that civility required it, an attempt was made to do so.
back to the table - but in vain; she started to cry and sob deeply as if the
heart if it wanted to break you.

Having exhausted all instances and means of persuasion employed, they asked him to,
at least, he would tell them the reason for such great pain and sorrow. Mara Moor
at first he refused to fulfill the request, but the young men and women insisted so much,
that she, finally yielding, began to tell the following:

When I was 19 years old, I lived in a very happy home, as I was surrounded by a
loving father, of a dedicated and caring mother and of a brother so helpful and affectionate
as a sister was allowed to wish: these were the companions of the radiant home of
my youth. Fortune and comfort smiled upon us, hinting at a future
happy. And it truly was, until the moment I became the cause of our downfall.

Two of our relatives, both young, came to visit us one day and with us
They spent some hours of the night in pleasant conversation, just like us here tonight.
There was also a deck of cards, and almost at the same time, it was dealt that night.
on the table by my cousin. My parents had already gone to bed.

Our two visitors immediately started playing, while my dedicated and


kind brother, who had an aversion to gambling, occupied himself with composing a musical piece
with which I intended to compete in a contest. However, the three of us, who needed
another companion for the game, we seek by all means to influence my
brother for us to be associated; he, however, declared to us peremptorily that not
it was lawful to spend one's time on such amusements; that such a pastime did not
it was typical of good people and, in short, he absolutely did not wish to become addicted. For
we tried everything to dissuade him from his ideas, but in vain. Finally, as a last resort,
I approached him, hugged him, and lovingly told him that I was also Christian, that
also desired bliss, and nevertheless, considered it innocent to play a
little for mere distraction; he told him more than to abandon petty scruples and see

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help us, for without it we would be deprived of a pleasant pastime; after all,
I finished by saying: 'you are too extreme in your ways.'

My brother finally got up, slowly, towards the table, saying, however, that nothing
he understood about games. We retorted to him that he would easily learn it. Unfortunately, in fact he
he learned from the very beginning, developing great sharpness of mind and not tiring
in studying the letters; finally, he was so enchanted that even an hour later
after finishing the game, he kept shuffling the cards and playing alone. It puzzled us and
sudden transformation in your ideas; we will leave you, however, as it is time for us to
to collect.

The next morning my brother immediately looked for the deck of cards, inviting us to
play; but our relatives, having to go back home, soon left us,
also taking the deck of cards they had brought.

The seed of the ill-fated action, however, had already been sown. That very night it was
my brother returned to the city in the afternoon, a fact that had never happened before; he returned from
He wanted humor and, to our questions, only answered evasively. We found out that he had played.
On the following night, he returned to the city and continued like that for the next nights, until he lost everything.
the money he had. He then turned to my father, asking for more money, which,
entrusting him with unlimited confidence, gave it to him promptly. Also this in
brief or lost. He went to ask my father for more, and he then demanded information about the
the use of this money, to which my brother only responded with evasions. Not
nevertheless, my father still gave him a small amount, showing him that he would not give more
without a perfect and categorical explanation about its application.

As in previous times, this last money was soon consumed by


game, and when asking my father for more, not wanting to tell him where and how I was spending it,
he firmly refused to give him even another real. Irritated by the refusal,
my brother replied to him that soon he would force him to be more spontaneous. How
usually, he returned to the city that night, frequenting the gambling houses and lingering
this time a week away from home.

During all this time, my poor mother hardly ate or slept and, at
they brought my brother home one day in a complete state of intoxication, she, overwhelmed by pain,
fell ill, within a few days ending existence, weakened by grief.

We hope that this sad event would contribute to changing the harmful course in my life.
brother; the change, however, was short-lived. He continued to play and drink as
Dante, and since he was still very young and of delicate build, soon the delirium
tremens seized him. My father, in turn, was also gradually fading away and in
brief died, leaving me alone with my wretched brother. Oh, how I wished
die too! But God seemed to want me to see the final result of my work
malfazeja, for which I would bring disgrace to my entire family, and thus I went for Him
thank you for staying to reap the fruits of my dark action.

In a thousand ways I tried to influence my brother toward the path of good, but all without
result; I prayed for him, but also in vain. Thus, it was that, having no more before him
the father to oppose him with obstacles, soon my brother completely plunged into the
ruin. A few weeks after I attended my father's funeral, they brought

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my brother in delirium, and after a few days of anguish, the poor boy finally died. Oh!
My God! Why was I born? Why didn't I die too? What punishment awaits me?
reserved for all eternity, since I, with my arguments, have precipitated into
abyss my own brother, that young man so beautiful and intelligent?

From there I decided to adopt the name that characterizes the state of my heart, that is - Mara.

The present ladies were sobbing and even some of the men were showing signs of being moved.
extreme, with the account of Mara's story.

The deck, for the time being, had disappeared from the table and then they became
many promises and vows that night, so that each of those present would contribute,
to the best of their abilities, for the disappearance of the game's society.

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44 - The Madness of a Countess
About a hundred years ago, there lived in the city of Hanover, Germany, a countess named
Carolina de Rueling, who was a declared impious person. She took pride in telling everyone that
the Holy Scriptures were a lie and did not believe in God or in the afterlife.

The church of the garden, built with the help of the magistrate of Hanover and the gifts of
liberal old town in the mid-18th century, found itself constantly in
financial embarrassments since its inauguration. The collections, although profitable, do not
they covered the debts, and the poor in the commune needed more and more assistance
pecuniary.

Carolina de Rueling distributed many thalers (German silver coins, corresponding to


about two and fifty of our currency) from his great fortune, and behind the
your name in the lists always saw considerable amounts, but, for your sister-in-law
Dorothea, who suffered the bitterest needs with her six children, had not
one pfennig (more or less ten cents). However, she had the sacred duty to
share all your belongings with this, for to save your deceased husband, you had given the
brother of this one, husband of Dorotéia, his life.

When Ferdinand, Duke of Brunswick, drove the French out of southern Hanover, he
they were joined by the brothers Augusto and João de Rueling. In the battle of Nauheim, in 1763,
It was João, an impetuous and bold man, cut off from his companions and would have
he would have perished, if Augusto, his older brother, had not saved him, sacrificing his own
life. Augusto, however, received a deep blow to the shoulder on this occasion, which put him
out of combat, needing to return to the homeland. Soon after, he passed away.
João promised Augusto to take care of his wife and children, like a father. He fulfilled it.
faithfully to your word; even years later, favored by the voter and King George
III of Hanover-England, had reached a high and prosperous position, and had married Carolina, of
who we talked about at the beginning, he always remembered his brother's family, which at the cost of
his life would save him. To his sorrow and dismay, he did not want his young wife to have.
communication with your sister-in-law Dorotéia, because she was bourgeois, while she was
daughter of a noble councilor from Nienburg, educated in the ideas of the aristocratic circle, which
denied the bourgeois class any rights and privileges.

João, thrown on the bed by a serious illness, managed to get his wife to promise to take care of him.
of the sister-in-law, if he were to pass away. But after the death of her husband, she considered herself
Carolina free from the duty to assist her bourgeois relatives. In 1772, a terrible reign.
hunger in Hanover and the poor could no longer afford the exorbitant prices of
food. The magistrate and the communes tried to provide food to the poor.
needy, among whom was also Dorotéia de Rueling, who could no longer
to support the children with the work of his hands. That is why he went to his sister-in-law's house to ask
help, however, this gave him nothing, despite, in addition to his wealth, receiving considerable
pension from the montepio. When Dorotéia, in her great need, sought again
the proud parent, she closed herself in her room, with the words:

I don't want to be bothered by anyone, especially not by her, neither in life nor in.
death.

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This countess died young, at about thirty years of age, and before her death
He arranged very meticulously how he wanted his tomb. To show plainly
who did not believe in the afterlife, determined that she wanted to be buried in a grave
that could never be opened again, neither by men nor even by God!

The tomb should be covered by a huge slab of solid granite and surrounded by it.
very heavy stone blocks. All this should be connected by iron cables, and the
it is securely fastened to the rest by a huge chain. Who could, then, open the tomb of
countess. That was how she thought, and as a challenge, she had it recorded in the notebook.
the main impious inscription:

This tomb was purchased for all eternity.


It will never be opened again.

After her death, everything was done as she had commanded. Everything that could be done was done.
to make it impossible to open that tomb.

However, of all the tombs that still remain in that cemetery, the tomb of the countess
It's the only one that is open! And no man opened it. God himself opened it!
How? By an earthquake? No. God used something much more insignificant.

God only needed a small seed to show the madness of the countess.

How the seed got in there is unknown. What is known is that a small sprout
it appeared between two stones, coming from the inside, and grew until it broke blocks,
currents and everything! Today you can see a gigantic tree emerging from the open grave!

And it was in this that the so-called tomb came to be, which should never be opened again! With all the
Surely I could record another entry about the lid today, and maybe nothing would match.
better than these words of the apostle St. Paul to the Galatians, chapter 6, verse 7: "Of
God is not to be mocked.

Will there be anything more insignificant than a tiny seed? For with it, God
confused and ruined the crazy designs of a countess. Who will dare to
zombing God?

And yet, how many are there still today who intend to mock God! They disregard
to Your holy Word, they trample underfoot Your commandments and mock Your love.

How should we consider ourselves happy, we who know the Gospel and have it in us
learned not to mock God, but to trust in His love revealed in Christ, to
this life is for the future life!

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Poor Uncle Silas
I will never forget that beautiful afternoon when my father set out to look at us, at my brothers and
to me.

We had been planning with great excitement how we were going to dress,
a night of darkness and, pretending to be spirits, to scare a certain somewhat cowardly colleague.

It will be truly amusing, comrades, I assure you! I exclaimed joyfully, in the face of this
idea.

- Very funny for you, Henrique, but for him? asked a deep voice and
reprimanding; and, looking up, I saw my father there, with a painful expression on his face.
physiognomy.

It was a new idea! It would be fun for us, but what would it be for him, the poor one?
harmless boy that we were planning to scare brutally?

We had absolutely not thought about that side of the issue; the boys and, in truth, the
men are also inclined to consider solely one side, and that is the one that
but it pleases them.

Our father paused for a moment in thought, and then he entered the room and sat down.

My children, I said, I see that the time has come for me to tell you a story about the
distant times, when I was a young boy, so full of life and joy that, like you
now, it did not occur to me that what was fun for me was precisely the
opposite to the other.

He fell silent for a while, and a painful shadow of sadness clouded his features,
a phrase that I had observed many times, and learned to relate it to a certain
a man who lived in a small cabin nearby.

He was a tall and strong man, about the same age as our father, but alas! the light of his
life, reason, had been lost forever; was gentle and harmless, and generally, cheerful and
jokester, but there were occasions when he would fall to the ground, shaking with terror, and letting out
wild cries for help against spirits that wanted to grab him.

My father visited this poor man many times, 'poor Uncle Si,' as we, children, called him.
we used to call, and sometimes he took me, the oldest son, with him; he never
I would always go with empty hands, bringing some gift - a book of engravings, sweets,
doll, or some toy; and it was on those occasions that I observed that painful and
sad expression on the usually jovial face of my father, an expression that there
it remained, like a cloud, long after we returned home. I knew,
also, it was he who, with the help of Uncle João, paid the rent of the poor man's cabin
man, dressed him, and paid the old woman who took care of him.

And that caused me no small perplexity, for I knew that "Uncle Si" was not
absolutely related to neither my father nor my mother, and that the money that
spent on his livelihood, barely saved for that purpose.

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Many times my father promised me to tell the story when the 'time' came.
opportune;" and this time seemed to have arrived now, as the first words were
Uncle Si.

" - Boys, he said, I will now tell you the story of Uncle Si. When you have it
I, having heard, must explain the reason why I believe it is my duty to tell it to you,
exactly now. I would give ten years of life to not have such a story to tell. But
it is my cross, and I am the one who made it, so I must bear it with patience,
in punishment.

When I was a schoolboy, there was among my companions an intelligent one.


little boy, good student, but very nervous and shy. His mother was a poor woman, who
she worked hard to support him and herself, and her greatest ambition was to see him
build a career in life.

We all liked Silas, for he was very gentle; but at the same time
we used to take advantage of his good nature and his shy demeanor, and we were always doing
jokes with him.

Your mother was an Irishwoman, full of strange superstitions. Nothing seemed to her
too wonderful to give him credit, and Silas had inherited this tendency to a high degree
superstitious.

We, boys, in an instant discovered your weakness, and nothing entertained us more than
that, after the afternoon classes, we would sit on the school steps, competing among ourselves
in the invention of the strangest and most frightening stories of spirits, robbers and
assassins. Silas used to listen, with his blue eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, the
faces now white now red, and finally getting so excited that it jumped at any
a creak of a door or a dragging of feet on the floor.

One afternoon we were indulging in our favorite pastime almost until the sun set, and the
shadows descend softly over the fields around us.

- Oh! What am I to do now? said Silas, looking around in fear.


still at farmer Simões' house, and it will be dark before I get home.

- At the house of farmer Simões, I said, winking at the others; so you have
While crossing the old bridge, Si, they say that the spirit of the woman who drowned there visits.
this place after dark; it seems that it is only on the anniversary of your death - but, what
Is today really the day?

- Ten, they replied.

I snapped my lips and stared intently at Silas.

So, I'm glad I don't have to go through there tonight, I murmured, but not so
lower so he wouldn't hear me, as I wanted.

What? What? he stammered, turning as white as a sheet. It is ...

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- Yes, since you want to know. But don't be afraid, mate, I don't believe
absolutely in this story. Who has ever heard of a spirit with ribs of
fire, and with fire spots on the face? Come on! that's nothing but an invention!

But poor Silas was all alarmed; in fact, that was what I intended, and his
terror seemed to me an excellent amusement, or rather, the beginning of an excellent one
divertimento, as it had formed a plan, of which this was only the prelude.

As Silas hesitated, wavering between the terror of encountering the spirit and the certainty of
a beating if it wasn't to deliver the message, I called aside my brother João and, in a quick
I whispered to him my plan, which we decided to keep to ourselves.

As a result, João proposed to accompany Silas in the message he had to deliver,


offer that the poor little one accepted full of gratitude; so they both left and the
the rest of the group went back to their homes.

I found some excuse to turn back before getting home, and I ran as fast as I could.
at the pharmacy, where I bought some matches; I then flew home, managing to
to arrange a small sheet, and I slipped away again unnoticed.

Soon I found myself on the bridge, and there, hidden behind some bushes, I began to draw.
on my black jacket the ribs of a skeleton; and they appeared
surprisingly - the white stripes shining distinctly in the darkness, as the
At that time it was already completely dark. I then put part of the match in my hands and in the
I tied the sheet around my waist, letting it drag behind me.

"Having prepared myself, I placed myself a few meters beyond the bridge, at the point where the
boys should go first on their return.

Soon I heard Silas's voice.

- Oh! João, I'm scared! I'm so scared!

- Tolice, my brother replied. A spirit? What an idea! I would really like to see one.

- Oh! no, don't say that. Oh! o...h!

"A scream like that, of such intense and unspeakable terror, I pray to the Heavens I never again"
listen in my life. And, releasing him, Silas fell to the ground, as if dead. John, according to
we had agreed, he also shouted and started to run, as if he were
terribly terrified. Silas stood there for a moment, and my heart
Did it shake? Would he be dead? Would I have killed him? But no, children, I had not done him a...
such a pious thing.

Silas stood up again and, shouting and screaming, rushed towards the bridge.
Seeing then the terrible effect that it had produced in him, I began to think that my
the joke had gone too far, and I began to run after him, calling him, and saying
that it was all a jest, that there was no spirit at all.

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But he wouldn't listen to me, always running and screaming the whole way, until he arrived at
come here, to my terror, he jumped over the railing, landing in the mud and water that
there was on the margin.

João had returned, and tearing the sheet that hung from my waist, we ran along the shore.
below, to the place where Silas was. There was more mud than water there, we well knew, and
the impulse of his descent had caused him to sink into the mud, until only a few parts remained outside
the shoulders and the head; and, to our greater horror, we saw that it was slowly
sinking more and more.

It was urgent to do something, or he would bury himself alive before our eyes.
There were some heavy planks over there, which we managed to drag into the mud,
bringing them to where poor Silas was sinking, always shouting: 'The
spirit! the spirit! the spirit!

"How the two of us, boys, could get him out of that swamp, I cannot understand."
But, whatever it was, we did it, and we took it home, even though it slipped away from us several times.
times, letting out the same scream: 'The spirit!'

For weeks after this, he was very sick, and when finally his body
He regained his health, the doctors declared that the reason would never return to him; since then
it has been this that you have seen.

While your unfortunate mother lived, Uncle João and I helped her take care of him, and since his
death, many years ago, we have taken full control of the unfortunate victim of our
cruel 'joke,' although the sin was more mine than my brother's, for it was I who
head.

My children, that moment of thoughtless 'joke' has saddened my whole


life, overshadowing her happiest moments.

Dad finished the story like this, and began to look at our desolate faces, while
we murmured in a tone of compassion:

Poor Uncle Silas!

Well, my children, he said after a few moments, I am waiting for you to tell me
that funny plan with which you intend to joke with Artur.

We lowered our heads in silence, and he smiled sweetly.

- Oh! I know that you understand why I told you my sad story today.
They learned the lesson it teaches. And now, children, I know I can trust you;
but so that they never forget it, I want each one to put their hand on this Saint
Book, and remembering that our Heavenly Father is listening to you, promise never to
allow no joke that could offend or make one of your peers unhappy.

So at the knees of our beloved father, each of us made a solemn promise, that
we never violated, and our life has become better and happier this way.

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But young friends, I invite you to do the same; for only then will you be able to obey the
Order of the Savior: 'As you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.'
you also do to them.

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