All
He had given me, that I could see at the minute, was to shine.
What a little morsel of a light mine was, to be sure!
It was a good deal of a puzzle to me for days after that, _how_
I was to shine. What could I do? I was a little child; my only
duties some lessons to learn; not much of that, seeing I had
not strength for it. Certainly, I had sorrows to bear; but
bearing them well did not seem to me to come within the sphere
of _shining_. Who would know that I bore them well? And shining
is meant to be seen. I pondered the matter.
"When's Christmas, Miss Daisy?"
Margaret asked this question one morning as she was on her
knees making my fire. Christmas had been so shadowed a point
to me in the distance, I had not looked at it. I stopped to
calculate the days.
"It will be two weeks from Friday, Margaret."
"And Friday's to-morrow?" she asked.
"The day after to-morrow. What do you do at Christmas,
Margaret? all the people?"
"There aint no great doings, Miss Daisy. The people gets four
days, most of 'em.
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