Cousin Tribulation's Story

by Louisa May Alcott

　　Dear Merrys:--As a subject appropriate to the season, I want to tellyou about a New Year's breakfast which I had when I was a littlegirl. What do you think it was? A slice of dry bread and an apple.This is how it happened, and it is a true story, every word.As we came down to breakfast that morning, with very shiny facesand spandy clean aprons, we found father alone in thedining-room."Happy New Year, papa! Where is mother?" we cried."A little boy came begging and said they were starving at home, soyour mother went to see and--ah, here she is."As papa spoke, in came mamma, looking very cold, rather sad, andvery much excited."Children, don't begin till you hear what I have to say," she cried;and we sat staring at her, with the breakfast untouched before us."Not far away from here, lies a poor woman with a little new-bornbaby. Six children are huddled into one bed to keep from freezing,for they have no fire. There is nothing to eat over there; and theoldest boy came here to tell me they were starving this bitter coldday. My little girls, will you give them your breakfast, as a NewYear's gift?"We sat silent a minute, and looked at the nice, hot porridge,creamy milk, and good bread and butter; for we were brought uplike English children, and never drank tea or coffee, or ate anything butporridge for our breakfast."I wish we'd eaten it up," thought I, for I was rather a selfish child,and very hungry."I'm so glad you come before we began," said Nan, cheerfully."May I go and help carry it to the poor, little children?" askedBeth, who had the tenderest heart that ever beat under a pinafore."I can carry the lassy pot," said little May, proudly giving the thingshe loved best."And I shall take all the porridge," I burst in, heartily ashamed ofmy first feeling."You shall put on your things and help me, and when we comeback, we'll get something to eat," said mother, beginning to pilethe bread and butter into a big basket.We were soon ready, and the procession set out. First, papa, with abasket of wood on one arm and coal on the other; mamma next,with a bundle of warm things and the teapot; Nan and I carried apail of hot porridge between us, and each a pitcher of milk; Bethbrought some cold meat, May the "lassy pot," and her old hood andboots; and Betsey, the girl, brought up the rear with a bag ofpotatoes and some meal.Fortunately it was early, and we went along back streets, so fewpeople saw us, and no one laughed at the funny party.What a poor, bare, miserable place it was, to be sure,--brokenwindows, no fire, ragged clothes, wailing baby, sick mother, and apile of pale, hungry children cuddled under one quilt, trying tokeep warm. How the big eyes stared and the blue lips smiled as wecame in!"Ah, mein Gott! it is the good angels that come to us!" cried thepoor woman, with tears of joy."Funny angels, in woollen hoods and red mittens," said I; and theyall laughed.Then we fell to work, and in fifteen minutes, it really did seem asif fairies had been at work there. Papa made a splendid fire in theold fireplace and stopped up the broken window with his own hatand coat. Mamma set the shivering children round the fire, andwrapped the poor woman in warm things. Betsey and the rest of usspread the table, and fed the starving little ones."Das ist gute!" "Oh, nice!" "Der angel--Kinder!" cried the poorthings as they ate and smiled and basked in the warm blaze. Wehad never been called "angel-children" before, and we thought itvery charming, especially I who had often been told I was "aregular Sancho." What fun it was! Papa, with a towel for an apron,fed the smallest child; mamma dressed the poor little new-bornbaby as tenderly as if it had been her own. Betsey gave the mothergruel and tea, and comforted her with assurance of better days forall. Nan, Lu, Beth, and May flew about among the seven children,talking and laughing and trying to understand their funny, brokenEnglish. It was a very happy breakfast, though we didn't get any ofit; and when we came away, leaving them all so comfortable, andpromising to bring clothes and food by and by, I think there werenot in all the hungry little girls who gave away their breakfast, andcontented themselves with a bit of bread and an apple of NewYear's day.