CHAPTER XVIII.
KATY STRUGGLES BRAVELY THROUGH A SERIES OF TRIALS.
The morning sun rose clear and bright, casting a flood of light
into the chamber of the sick mother, watched over by the beloved
child. It was Christmas, and all over the Christian world arose
paeans of praise for the birth of the Saviour. The sufferer was
conscious of the fact, and a sweet smile played upon her lips, as
she thought of Jesus--that he had lived and died for her. Pain,
that could rack the bones and triumph over the weak body, was
powerless to subdue the loving, trusting spirit, that reposed
gently on Him who has invited the weary to a present and an
eternal rest.
"Katy," said Mrs. Redburn, in a faint whisper.
"I am here, mother," replied she, bending over her and
endeavoring to anticipate her unspoken desire.
"Is the hymn book on the table?"
"Here it is, mother."
"Won't you read me a hymn?"
"What shall I read?" asked Katy, who could with difficulty keep
back the flood of tears that rose up from her heart.
" `Come, said Jesus' sacred voice.' "
Katy opened the book to the beautiful hymn commencing with this
line, and in a voice broken by the emotion she could not wholly
control, she read it through. The smile that played on her
mother's face showed how deep and pure was the consolation she
derived from the touching poetry.
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