Catholic Stories For Boys & Girls

Nuns Catholic

Description

Catholic Stories for Boys & Girls offers four volumes of happy and courageous stories, compiled and written by Catholic nuns in the 1930's.

Sujets

• Children's
• Catholic Church

Informations

• Publié par: Neumann Press
• Date de parution: 02 juin 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781505108057
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Catholic Stories for Boys and Girls
Volume II
Published by Neumann Press, an imprint of TAN Books. Books. Originally published as: “Catholic Stories for Boys and Girls—Volume II,” 1992.” Revised edition with color corrections, cover design copyright © Neumann Press.
ISBN: 978-0-911845-47-1
Neumann Press Charlotte, North Carolina www.NeumannPress.com
2014
The stories herein are republished in the hope that in a small way the Faith, Culture and Tradition of the Holy Roman Catholic Church may be preserved for our most prized possession, our children.
May our Divine Lord bless each boy and girl who reads these stories, as well as every one who helps to place them in their hands .
M ICHAEL J. C URLEY Archbishop of Baltimore .
CONTENTS
OTTAWANTA
ELIZABETH BAYLEY SETON
ANINA
SILVER WINGS
JOHN PHILIP
OTTAWANTA
He was not young, this Indian Chief, nor did he rule over many braves. His home was not in the midst of many wigwams. He did not sit in the Council ring with warriors and medicine men and smoke the peace pipe. For Ottawanta dwelt alone on the banks of the Tomsquit that flowed down the side of Indian Lookout Mountain and crossed the quiet valley below.
Yet Ottawanta had not always led a lonely life. Time was when the valley had been filled with noise and bustle. Children had played in the stream, and women had sat at the doorways of their wigwams pounding maize or weaving bright colored blankets or boiling deer-flesh against the return of the braves from the chase or war path.

Fires had brightly blazed and the Council circle meditated and discussed events relating to the welfare of the tribe. And Ottawanta had ruled these people as their Chief! Seven sons tall and strong and lithe as young willows had Ottawanta. And they were the bravest warriors of the tribe. Fleet of foot, daring and skillful too. How he had loved them!

Silver Birch, their mother. How beautiful she had been! Little Red Bird, his only daughter! So slim and graceful. All were gone now! All. Ottawanta recalled the coming of the Black Robe who showed them the Crucifix and taught them of Jesus and Mary.
Ottawanta had been baptized as well as his wife and daughter and seven sons, and many of his tribe. But many of them, led by Green Snake, had refused the teachings of the Black Robe. The tribe had been split in halves. But Ottawanta and his followers had remained for many peaceful years in the quiet valley, while Green Snake and his band wandered far away to lead a roving life in the deeper wilderness.

The years had swiftly passed. And one by one the members of Ottawanta's tribe disappeared. Sickness and old age carried off many and warfare the others. Silver Birch and Little Red Bird and the seven sons were now sleeping above the banks of the silver stream. At the foot of the Missionary's great cross, Ottawanta had buried them, one after the other. At the head of and foot of each grave he had planted a young oak. Was it any wonder that the old Chief loved that place so dearly?

Often he had been urged to go and join some other tribe, but his heart said, "No. Here rest my loved ones. Here I shall stay until my spirit too is free."
Every morning Ottawanta climbed the hill to the oak grove. And there before the great cross he knelt and told his beads in honor of Mary the Mother of God who was also Queen of Heaven. He thought of Silver Birch and Little Red Bird and the seven brave sons. Surely they were in Heaven with its Beautiful Queen. It was a happy thought. Someday, perhaps soon, he would be with them, but how the days dragged by.
One May day Ottawanta climbed to the oak grove and knelt before the great cross. He drew his rosary from his belt and began to recite it.

The sun sank and twilight fell, but still Ottawanta knelt in prayer. The moon rose and the grove of oaks was flooded with soft silver light.
Ottawanta at last raised his head and prayed aloud:
"O Virgin Mother of the Sinless One!
"O Queen of Heaven hear my prayer. It is thine Indian son who calls upon thee.
"Thou knowest that since the coming of the Black Robe long years ago, I have never failed to do what the holy Missionary taught us. I have honored thee. I have said thy beads daily for many years. Now my wife, my daughter, my seven sons are gone to Heaven to dwell with thee. And I am left alone.
"Have pity on my loneliness, O Queen, and let me join my loved ones and thee in eternal bliss."
As he finished speaking a soft rose radiance appeared before him, and in the center stood the crowned Queen of Heaven clothed in dazzling white. She smiled upon the startled Chief and softly spoke to him,
"My son, behold thy Mother whose watchful care has shielded thee from harm.
"I know, Ottawanta, how faithful thou hast been to my Son and to me. And behold the reward which shall be thine because of thy perseverance and trust.
"I bless this spot where sleep thy loved ones, and where soon thou too shalt rest.
"I bless this land where thou has dwelt, for near thy home shall dwell a holy Sisterhood. At morn, at noon, at eve, my praises shall ring out. Upon that mountain shall be built a temple to my name. And from it shall go forth holy priests and bishops to spread the teachings of my Son.
"But here, where now I stand, many shall come to praise me. And the children shall gather round me to sing hymns in my name. The fairest flowers of spring, they shall weave into wreaths for my head. And brightest leaves and fruits of autumn shall they lay at my feet. For here I choose to be honored because of thy devotion. I shall be acclaimed as the 'Flower of the Field and the Lily of the Vale.'"
"The Children Shall Sing Hymns."
Seven days later Ottawanta's spirit was free. And they laid him in the grove of oaks between Little Red Bird and Silver Birch. And there he sleeps today in that holy place which people call the Shrine of Our Lady of the Fields.
ELIZABETH BAYLEY SETON
I
Betty lifted her eyes from her sewing and looked out of the window. The light was beginning to fade. Across the street she could see still the Redcoat pacing. Betty watched him for a moment.
"Elizabeth, good children are never idle."
Betty turned around quickly and picked up the square of sewing that had slipped to the floor. She looked up into the face of the old lady and smiled. Then she looked down at her sampler.
Betty liked the first set of letters very much. They had been hard to make, but how pretty they were! They were big and stitched in rose color on brown canvas.
The second set were smaller. Betty had finished them in much less time than the first. They had been done in green silk.
The other sets had been easier still. Then there had been the little schoolhouse with the roses climbing over it and the little verses:
          Betty, be kind and just and wise;
          There solid self-enjoyment lies .
          Adorn thy heart, adorn thy mind
          With knowledge of the purest kind .
          Be this thy care, be this thy strife;
          And thou shalt lead a happy life .
Now she was working out her name.
          This sampler neat was worked by me
          In my ninth year. Betty B .
Yes, it was a pretty sampler. Father would be proud of it. He would have it framed and hung on the wall.
Father. Betty looked quickly out the window again. There was Father going down the street.

Betty looked up at Mistress Hannah. But Mistress Hannah was not watching Betty now, for she had fallen asleep over the sewing in her hand.
Betty got up quickly. She laid her sampler on the little stool. Then she went on tiptoe out of the room. She opened the front door softly and ran down the street.
Father saw her coming. He waited and held out his arms to her. Betty ran into them and held up her face for a kiss.
"And how is my little daughter?" he asked.
"Very well, Father."

Father picked her up and gave her a little hug. Then he put her down again.
"Be good," he said, "and obey Mistress Hannah. Goodbye." And off he went down the street.
Betty ran quickly back to the house. She opened the front door oh, so softly, and stole back to her place by the window. She picked up her sewing and began to make a big "I."
Five minutes later, Mistress Hannah opened her eyes and looked about the darkening room.
"How late it is," she said. "Put away your sampler, child. You have been working long enough."
Betty folded her sampler. She did not say a single word.
II
Supper was over. Betty sat on a little stool by her father's side before the big open fire. This was always Betty's place.
Betty had a step-mother and several little step-brothers and sisters. And often she had to help take care of them. Her step-mother meant to be kind, but she often forgot poor little Betty and thought only of the other little ones. The others had lovely toys and pretty clothes. But little Betty rarely had anything lovely or pretty given to her. But she was a very brave little girl and did not say anything—even when all the others were being noticed and petted.