[All of the articles mentioned in this talk may be shown to the children at the proper places.]
The neglected boy saw that the other boys and girls were getting a great many more presents than he received. “Dear me,” whined the Neglected Boy; “no one ever gives me anything. No one cares for me, or plans for me, or works for me.”
Up then spoke a little sunbeam, which had just touched the boy’s cheek. “Why, my boy,” said the sunbeam, “I came all the way from the sun just for you.”
Up then spoke a pleasant whiff of wind, that strayed in through the open window. “I, my boy,” it said, “made the long journey from the Gulf of Mexico just for you.”
From Mrs. Wilson’s garden at the same time came the scent of a fine rosebush, and the perfume also found a voice, and said, “You poor boy! I have come to console you.”
There was an orange on the table. It was the boy’s, and it, too, found a tongue. “All the way from California,” it said, “I have travelled, my boy, just for your pleasure.”
In the boy’s hands—for he was about to go to school—was a schoolbook, and the schoolbook spoke up: “I came all the way from Boston, and hundreds of men and women have worked upon me and they were all working for you.”
There came a noise from the kitchen where the cook was clearing away the breakfast dishes, and some way or other the noise got shaped into words, and the words were, “Remember your breakfast, my lad. Part of it came from Brazil, part of it from Canada, part from China, and part from Africa; and all of these sailors and merchants and steamships and railroads were working for you.”
The school bell sounded forth, and the boy thought it said, “Come, my boy, here are half a dozen teachers all ready to work for you.”
And last of all, something deep down in the boy’s heart spoke more loudly than any of the rest, though it was a very quiet voice, and reminded him of his mother and father who were serving him, and of his Father in heaven who loved him.
Do you wonder that the lad ran away quite ashamed of himself, and that, no matter how many presents the other fellows had, he never again called himself, “neglected.”