all the star, because the mother
was reunited to her two children. And he stretched out his arms and
cried: "O mother, sister, and brother, I am here! Take me!" And they
answered him: "Not yet." And the star was shining.

He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning gray, and he was sitting in
his chair by the fireside, heavy with grief, and with his face bedewed
with tears, when the star opened once again.

Said his sister's angel to the leader:--

"Is my brother come?"

And he said: "Nay, but his maiden daughter."

And the man, who had been the child, saw his daughter, newly lost to
him, a celestial creature among those three, and he said: "My daughter's
head is on my sister's bosom, and her arm is around my mother's neck,
and at her feet there is the baby of old time, and I can bear the
parting from her, God be praised!"

And the star was shining.

Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth face was
wrinkled, and his steps were slow and feeble, and his back was bent. And
one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standing round, he cried,
as he had cried so long ago:--

"I see the star!"

They whispered one to another: "He is dying."

And he said: "I am. My age is falling from me like a garment, and I move
towards the star as a child. And, O my Father, now I thank Thee that it
has so often opened to receive those dear ones who await me!"

And the star was shining; and it shines upon his grave.

THE LOVELIEST ROSE IN THE WORLD

BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN (ADAPTED)

Once there reigned a queen, in whose garden were found the most glorious
flowers at all seasons and from all the lands of the world. But more
than all others she loved the roses, and she had many kinds of this
flower, from the wild dog-rose with its apple-scented green leaves to
the most splendid, large, crimson roses. They grew against the garden
walls, wound themselves around the pillars and wind-frames, and crept
through the windows into the rooms, and all along the ceilings in the
halls. And the roses were of many colors, and of every fragrance and
form.

But care and sorrow dwelt in those halls. The queen lay upon a sick-bed,
and the doctors said she must die.

"There is still one thing that can save her," said the wise man. "Bring
her the loveliest rose in the world, the rose that is the symbol of the
purest, the brightest love. If that is held before her eyes ere they
close, she will not die."

Then old