Poor john was greatly troubled,because his father was very ill and could not recover.Except for these two,there was no one in their small room.The lamp on the table had almost burned out,for it was quite late at night.
“You have been a good son,John,”his dying father said,“and the Lord will help you along in the world.”He looked at his son with earnest,gentle eyes,sighed deeply,and fell dead as if he were falling asleep.
John cried bitterly,for now he had no one in all the world,neither father nor mother,sister nor brother.Poor John!He knelt at the bedside,and kissed his dead father's hand.He cried many salty tears,until at last his eyes closed,and he fell asleep with his head resting against the hard bed-stead.
Then he had a strange dream.He saw the sun and the moon bow down to him.He saw his father well again and strong,and heard him laughing as he always laughed when he was happy.A beautiful girl,with a crown of gold on her lovely long hair,stretched out her hand to John,and his father said,“See what a bride you have won.She is the loveliest girl in the world.”Then he awoke,and all these fine things were gone.His father lay cold and dead on the bed,and there was no one with them.Poor John!
The following week the dead man was buried.John walked close behind the coffin;he could no longer see his kind father,who had loved him so.He heard how they threw the earth down upon the coffin,and watched the last corner of it until a shovel of earth hid even that.He was so sad that he felt as if his heart were breaking in pieces.Then those around him sang a psalm which sounded so lovely that tears came to his eyes.He cried,and that did him good in his grief.The sun shone in its splendor down on the green trees,as if to say,“John,you must not be so unhappy.Look up and see how fair and blue the sky is.Your father is there,praying to the good Lord that things will always go well with you.”
“I'll always be good,”John said.“Then I shall go to join my father in heaven.How happy we shall be to see each other again!How much I shall have to tell him,and how much he will have to show me and to teach me about the joys of heaven,just as he used to teach me here on earth.Oh,what joy that will be!”
He could see it all so clearly that he smiled,even though tears were rolling down his cheeks.The little birds up in the chestnut trees twittered,“Chirp,chirp!Chirp,chirp!”They were so happy and gay,for although they had attended a funeral they knew very well that the dead man had gone to heaven,where he now wore wings even larger and lovelier than theirs.They knew that he was happy now,because here on earth he had been a good man,and this made them glad.
John saw them fly from the green trees far out into the world,and he felt a great desire to follow them.But first he carved a large wooden cross to mark his father's grave.When he took it there in the evening he found the grave neatly covered with sand and flowers.Strangers had done this,for they had loved the good man who now was dead.
Early the next morning,John packed his little bundle and tucked his whole inheritance into a money belt.All that he had was fifty dollars and a few pieces of silver,but with this he meant to set off into the world.But first he went to the churchyard,where he knelt and repeated the Lord's Prayer over his father's grave.Then he said,“Farewell,father dear!I'll always be good,so you may safely pray to our Lord that things will go well with me.”
The fields through which he passed were full of lovely flowers that flourished in the sunshine and nodded in the breeze,as if to say,“Welcome to the green pastures!Isn't it nice here?”But John turned round for one more look at the old church where as a baby he had been baptised,and where he had gone with his father every Sunday to sing the hymns.High up,in one of the belfry windows,he saw the little church goblin with his pointed red cap,raising one arm to keep the sun out of his eyes.John nodded good-by to him,and the little goblin waved his red cap,put his hand on his heart,and kissed his finger tips to him again and again,to show that he wished John well and hoped that he would have a good journey.
As John thought of all the splendid things he would see in the fine big world ahead of him,he walked on and on—farther away than he had ever gone before.He did not even know the towns through which he passed,nor the people whom he met.He was far away among strangers.
The first night he slept under a haystack in the fields,for he had no other bed.But he thought it very comfortable,and the king himself could have no better.The whole field,the brook,the haystack,and the blue sky overhead,made a glorious bedroom.The green grass patterned with red and white flowers was his carpet.The elder bushes and hedges of wild roses were bouquets of flowers,and for his wash bowl he had the whole brook full of clear fresh water.The reeds nodded their heads to wish him both “Good night,”and “Good morning.”The moon was really a huge night lamp,high up in the blue ceiling where there was no danger of its setting fire to the bed curtains.John could sleep peacefully,and sleep he did,never once waking until the sun rose and all the little birds around him began singing,“Good morning!Good morning!Aren't you up yet?”
The church bells rang,for it was Sunday.People went to hear the preacher,and John went with them.As he sang a hymn and listened to God's Word,he felt just as if he were in the same old church where he had been baptised,and where he had sung the hymns with his father.
There were many,many graves in the churchyard,and some were overgrown with high grass.Then John thought of his own father's grave and of how it too would come to look like these,now that he could no longer weed and tend it.So he knelt down to weed out the high grass.He straightened the wooden crosses that had fallen,and replaced the wreaths that the wind had blown from the graves.“Perhaps,”he thought,“someone will do the same for my fathers grave,now that I cannot take care of it.”
