She had never been very strong in body, and it was with a pang of
terror her mother and father noticed, soon after she was five
years old, that she began to limp, ever so slightly; to complain
too often of weariness, and to nestle close to her mother, saying
she "would rather not go out to play, please." The illness was
slight at first, and hope was always stirring in Mrs. Bird's
heart. "Carol would feel stronger in the summer-time;" or, "She
would be better when she had spent a year in the country;" or,
"She would outgrow it;" or, "They would try a new physician;" but
by and by it came to be all too sure that no physician save One
could make Carol strong again, and that no "summer-time" nor
"country air," unless it were the everlasting summer-time in a
heavenly country, could bring back the little girl to health.

The cheeks and lips that were once as red as holly-berries faded
to faint pink; the star-like eyes grew softer, for they often
gleamed through tears; and the gay child-laugh, that had been
like a chime of Christmas bells, gave place to a smile so lovely,
so touching, so tender and patient, that it filled every corner
of the house with a gentle radiance that might have come from the
face of the Christ-child himself.

Love could do nothing; and when we have said that we have said
all, for it is stronger than anything else in the whole wide
world. Mr. and Mrs. Bird were talking it over one evening when
all the children were asleep. A famous physician had visited
them that day, and told them that sometime, it might be in one
year, it might be in more, Carol would slip quietly off into
heaven, whence she came.