TWO little girls had chanced to meet; 

Their eyes were blue, and gold their hair. 

One richly clad, one poor and neat, 

One bright and glad, one sad and sweet, 

Both pure as angels seemed.

They stopped and looked, as children will,

From timid hearts, with glances bold; 

One saw blue eyes with joy-light thrill 

One saw blue eyes with tear-drops fill, 

And all the tale was told.

Plenty and Want stood side by side,

Beneath the winter's cold, gray sky, 

The child of plenty gently tried 

To tell the tale of Christ, who died 

For men, on Calvary.

The child of want with bended head 

Wept o'er that story, old and rare,

And lisped, "Will He who thousands fed,

Give to my mother 'daily bread,' 

If I but ask in prayer?"

With trustful faith both knelt to pray 

Unburdened all their childish care 

To Christ, who, throned above the day, 

Bade white-robed angels haste away, 

And bring an answer there.

And while the pleading voices trilled

To Heaven through the silent air, 

The giving hand that Christ had willed, 

The home of want with comfort filled, 

Till no more want was there.

'T was Christmas and the chilly light 

Grew soft with radiance from above, 

As morning from the summer night, 

Through crimson rays grows softly bright, 

With sunshine of God's love.


 in Advance