I took that first verse for mine: not because it was short, but because the talk we had in Sunday-school kept me thinking about it. We were planning the next Sunday’s lesson, and one of the girls said she didn’t see how Bible verses could be called seeds: that set Mrs. Wheeler off into an explanation; she told some lovely stories about how Bible words dropped into human hearts had borne flowers and fruit; then she suggested that we girls try it, and see what fruit we could raise for Christmas.

As you may imagine, I liked the plan ever so much, for it made me think of you all; and I decided to take just that verse and see how many seeds I could sow. I had a half-dozen plans which, if I had carried them out, would have been splendid fruit, I am sure; and would have made a lovely letter to write you, but they were all spoiled, and all I can do is to tell you about it.

Last Tuesday was a lovely winter day, just the one for beginning some of my beautiful plans, and I had been wishing I could get Aunt Helen to go down town with me to help me do some shopping. I thought of asking her, but she is a rather new auntie, you know, and I didn’t quite like to.

Just after dinner mamma asked me if I didn’t want to take a basket of tea rolls to Grandma Dunlap. She isn’t my grandma, but a very nice old lady whom everybody calls grandma; she is quite poor and people send her things very often. I like to go there; the little house is so cunning, and everything as neat as wax, and old-fashioned.

I asked mamma if I must hurry back, and she said, “Just as you please; if you want to take a walk in this crisp air, there is nothing to hinder you from being gone for a couple of hours.”

Then up spoke Aunt Helen, “But if you should happen to come back in time to go out shopping with me, I have some Christmas errands which I think you might like to help about.”

Just think how glad I was! I said, “O Aunt Helen! that is just exactly what I want; and could you find time to give me a little Christmas advice?”

She laughed and said she was good for any amount of advice.

I put on one of my very prettiest dresses and my best hat, so as to be ready to go with Aunt Helen; and then I started for Grandma Dunlap’s as fast as I could; I said it would not take me over a half-hour to go there and back.

O girls, I had such lovely schemes. I wish I had time to tell you about them, but of what use would it be to tell now that they are fallen through? I had a five dollar gold piece of my very own, and I was going to lay it out for Christmas in what I hoped would be seeds, bearing fruit for Jesus. And don’t you think I didn’t do it at all! I found Grandma Dunlap in bed; she had a hoarse cold and a headache, and so much rheumatism that she could not even turn over in bed.

“I managed to keep up until after breakfast,” she said, “and then I went right back to bed, and this stiffness came on me, so that I haven’t been able to stir since.”

The cunning little kitchen hadn’t been swept that day; and there wasn’t any fire on the hearth. Grandma said it happened that nobody had been in to see her. Now of course you know, girls, what came to me right away; that I ought to sweep the room and make a fire and get her a cup of tea and something to eat. But I am ashamed to tell you that I said to myself: “Well, I can’t do it; Aunt Helen will be waiting for me, and besides I have my best dress on, and mamma does not like me to do housework in this dress. And besides all that, if I don’t buy some of those things right away, it will be too late to carry out my plans.” I told Grandma Dunlap I was sorry she was sick, and I would tell mamma, and have something done for her, and then I took my sun umbrella and turned toward the door; when up came that verse which I was working by, “The seed is the word,” and along with it came the verse, “Even Christ pleased not himself.” And another, “If Christ, so loved us, we ought also to love one another.” And then, piling on top of that, came the Golden Rule about doing to others as you would have them do to you; and, O dear! I don’t know how many more there were; seeds, you know, which had been dropped in my heart, and were trying as hard as they could to spring up and bear fruit and I was trying to choke them. I stopped short, with my hand on the door latch and turned around, and the queer little tile over grandma’s chimney which has painted on it in funny old-fashioned letters, “Polly, put the kettle on,” seemed to speak to me as plainly as though my name had been Polly, instead of Emmeline.

Grandma’s grandson painted the letters there; he was going to be an artist if he had lived; but he didn’t: and she hasn’t any relations in the world. At last I said, “Wouldn’t you like a cup of tea, Grandma?” How I did hope she would say she couldn’t think of drinking a drop of tea, nor eating a mouthful, and that all she wanted was to be left alone. But she didn’t; she smiled on me and said: “I do feel pretty faint, Emmie, and if you could give me a bite of your mother’s tea roll I’ll try to eat it, but I haven’t any tea in the house.”

Well, of course there wasn’t any use in standing there and trying to make believe that because I had on my best dress I ought not to work; I knew well enough that mamma would rather have the dress spoiled than to have Grandma Dunlap suffer, so I just told her that I would go out to the corner grocery and get a little tea and come back and make her a cup right away. I didn’t know people ever bought less than a pound of tea at a time, so I got a whole pound, and it cost a whole dollar. Did you know, girls, that good tea was so expensive? I never was so astonished in my life. Then I found out that there wasn’t any butter nor sugar; and I knew mamma cooked a fresh egg for people when they couldn’t eat much; and I bought a dozen at the grocery that the man said had just come from the country, and they were forty-five cents a dozen; it must cost a great deal of money to keep house; I had no idea what an expensive thing it was. Just the few things which I had to get for Grandma Dunlap, cost two dollars and sixty-seven cents! Butter, it seems, is very expensive stuff, too. The grocer sent the things right away, and I hurried back, and turned up the skirt of my dress, and put on a great gingham apron of Grandma’s and made the fire, and filled the little tea-kettle, and while it was making up its mind to boil, I swept and dusted the room; then I made Grandma just a lovely piece of toast, for mamma had sent a loaf of bread, as well as the tea rolls, and cooked her an egg, and made her a beautiful cup of tea; then I fed her, and she said she believed she never had had anything so good in her life before. Then I had to wash up the dishes, and put everything in order, and fix Grandma’s bed, and bring in some wood, and go over to Mrs. Barker’s to ask if Jane, when she came from the factory, would mind coming over and spending the night, and by the time I had reached home, Aunt Helen had been, and got back; just as I knew she would be; and mamma said: “Why, child, what in the world kept you so? I was beginning to be frightened.” They laughed at me a little, when I told my story, for buying a whole pound of tea, and two pounds of butter; but mamma said I did right, of course, not to think about my dress when there was work which ought to be done: and she sent word to papa to have our doctor go around and see Grandma, and said as soon as she could leave Baby in the morning, she would go herself.

And, girls, that’s the whole of the story; I have none of the beautiful things to tell, because I spent more than half my money, and I can’t do them now; and besides, Aunt Helen doesn’t go away down town shopping very often.

So my plans are all upset, but some way I don’t feel so very badly about it; though I would have liked ever so much to try how those seeds I had in mind, would grow; maybe I can try some of them some other time.

There is just a little bit more: at first I thought I wouldn’t tell you, but I believe I will. Grandma Dunlap said a very strange and sweet thing to me just as I was going away. She asked me to bend down so she could kiss me, and then she said, “You have given the Lord Jesus a beautiful supper to-night, Emmie.”

At first I was frightened; I thought she did not know what she was saying, but she looked at me with smiling eyes, and said: “You don’t know what I mean? Didn’t you know there was a lovely ‘inasmuch’ in his Book for you? Find it when you go home, Emmie.”

I found what I think she meant. Do you girls know the verse? “Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these, my brethren, ye did it unto me.” Not that Grandma Dunlap is one of the “least,” she is a dear, sweet old lady that anybody might be glad to help, but I am sure that was what she meant; and it made me not care very much about the rest. This isn’t much of a story; it is only to explain to you why I have no story to tell.

If I ever should do any of the nice things I planned, I’ll tell you about them. Until then, you must “take the will for the deed.”