Читать книгу The Peep of Day - Favell Lee Mortimer - Страница 8

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You know that God lives in heaven. He has no body, for he is a spirit.

Does he live in heaven alone?—No; angels stand all round his throne.

What are angels?

Angels are spirits. They are bright like the sun, but they are not so bright as God, for he is brighter than the sun. The angels are always looking at God, and it is God that makes them shine so bright.

They sing sweet songs about God. They say, “How good God is! how wise! how great!”

There is no night in heaven, for the angels are never tired of singing, and they never wish to sleep. They are never sick, and they will never die.

They never weep; there are no tears upon their cheeks, but sweet smiles, for angels are always happy.

If the angels were naughty, they would be unhappy. Naughtiness always makes people unhappy. The angels are quite good. They love God very much, and mind all he says.

They have wings, and can fly very quickly. God sends them down here to take care of us. As soon as God tells an angel to go, he begins to fly. They are very strong, and can keep us from harm.

Should you like the angels to be near you at night? Do you know this pretty verse or hymn?

I lay my body down to sleep,

Let angels guard my head,

And through the hours of darkness keep

Their watch around my bed.

You must ask God to send the angels, for they never go, except when God sends them.

God is their Father. They have not two fathers, as you have. The angels are the children of God, and live in God’s house in heaven. When you mind what your father tells you, then you are like the angels who mind God.

The angels love us very much. They wish us to grow good, and to come to live with them in heaven. When a child is sorry for its naughtiness, and prays to God to forgive it, the angels are very much pleased.

When a little child who loves God falls sick, and is going to die, God says to the angels, “Go and fetch that little child’s soul up to heaven.” Then the angels fly down, the little darling shuts its eyes, it lays its head on its mothers bosom, its breath stops;—the child is dead. Where is its soul? The angels are carrying it up to heaven.

How happy the child is now! Its pain is over; it is grown quite good; it is bright like an angel. It holds a harp in its hand, and begins to sing a sweet song of praise to God. Its little body is put into a grave, and turns into dust. One day God will make its body alive again.

Dear children, will you pray to God to send his angels to fetch your souls when you die?

Around God’s glorious throne above

The happy angels stand,

And ever praise the God they love,

And fly at his command.

Their faces, like the sun, are bright,

And sweetest smiles they wear;

They never sleep; there is no night,

Nor need of candle there.

But though the angels live so high,

They love us men below,

And hope to see us in the sky

In garments white as snow.

And when a dying infant lies

Upon its mother’s breast,

The angels watch it while it dies,

And take its soul to rest.