Ruth had two sisters, Grace and Jessie. Now Grace and Jessie were twins, and everybody praised their blue eyes and rosy cheeks, and when they laughed, people said, “How sweetly they smile!” and when they wept, people said, “Poor little ones!” and immediately took them in their arms, and strove to bring back the dimpling smile to their faces.

Grace and Jessie played together always, and little Ruth, who was younger than either of them, was left often alone. No one ever called her beautiful, nor stroked her hair, nor kissed her brow; and when she stood by the side of the twin sisters at the gate, and the people, in passing, praised the flaxen curls of Grace and Jessie, then they would turn towards her, and, their smiles vanishing, they would regard her with a pitiful air, turning silently away. Then she would creep off by herself into some favorite nook of the garden, thoroughly ashamed that she should so far have forgotten herself as to stand by the side of her beautiful sisters.

Her mother, too, often took her in her lap, and, kissing her brow sorrowfully, would exclaim, in sad tones:

“My poor, plain child, my dear homely Ruth!”

Her father never caressed her. His love seemed to be kept for the twins, whose two bright faces peered over his chair, and whose glad voices were always ready to greet him on his return home.

And still Ruth loved her father so much, and, nestling close in the corner of the garden away off by herself, mourned that he never kissed her, nor called her his dear, pretty Ruth.

“O,” thought the child, “how I do wish I could do something for my father, which might please him, so that only once he might call me his dear child! O, why was not I made a twin?” Thus the poor child mourned to herself.

She had a doll, which she made her constant companion, and she played it was very lovely like Grace and Jessie; she told it all her griefs, and really came to feel that the doll understood all she said to it.

She had also another pleasure; it was that of reading. Her mother had given her many books, and she loved to sit among the rose-bushes, and read their beautiful stories. She liked to read about a man who lived off alone upon an island, and had only some cats and monkeys for his companions; how the cave was his house, and the skins of beasts were his garments; how he looked off upon the ocean, and saw not one sail, and wandered about upon his island, without hearing one human sound.

This story had a wild fascination for our little Ruth, so that she read it again and again; yet still the book was as new to her in its interest as at first.

Then there were other stories she loved to read; some about lonely, patient, lovely young girls, who went out into the world alone to seek their fortunes, and returned home with wealth and honor. She often wished she might go forth in this way, so that when she came back no one should dare call her plain or unlovable. Then she longed to hold some secret charm, so that whoever she should desire to do so, should love and caress her. But still no bright fairy stooped down from the skies to change her black, stiff hair into shining ringlets, or her dark-brown skin into the fairness of that of her sisters; and so Ruth only read, and wondered, and wished.

One day when, as usual, Ruth had found herself quite alone, Grace and Jessie had gone to take a walk, and her mother was reading by herself, she had taken her book, and sat down beneath the shade of a broad tree in the garden. She was reading the story of a fair princess, who had many suitors and splendid gifts, and who was called the Queen of Beauty.

“Alas!” she cried, “why was not I beautiful, so I might be loved! Then I should not be the sober, odd thing I am now!”

“Would you, then, so much like to be beautiful, dear child?” said a voice close at her side, and, when Ruth looked up, she saw an old woman whom she never had seen before. She was clothed in a long blue dress, and her face was full of motherly love. Ruth’s heart was filled with gladness, for seldom had so affectionate a glance been shed on her; and when the old woman bent down and kissed her, how all remembrance of the indifference of father, mother, friends, vanished from her mind, and it seemed that her whole life was given to her new friend, that she might do with her whatever she willed!

All strangeness at her sudden appearance vanished, too, as soon as she had kissed her. Ruth felt under the control of a great power, and watched her movements with as much love as confidence.

When the old woman had looked into Ruth’s eyes, and had seen the thoughts which beamed there, she looked up into the sky, and beckoned to a very light, beautiful cloud, which was sailing carelessly along.

She had no sooner done this than the cloud began to descend slowly towards them, just as though it understood her summons, and, when it had reached the place where she stood, it remained motionless.

Then she took up little Ruth in her arms, and stepped on to the cloud and sat down; and, after arranging herself and Ruth quite comfortably, she said something, which Ruth could not understand, and then the cloud began to rise, moving as easily as it had done before it came down from the sky.

While they were going up, Ruth was amazed to see how the garden and the beloved tree below became continually smaller and smaller; how, by-and-by, she could only distinguish the house, and how that became dimmer and dimmer, until it entirely disappeared from her sight.

Then she turned towards the old woman, and saw that her kind blue eyes lovingly regarded her; and so she still more forgot the home below, where, without doubt, her departure would pass unnoticed.

New objects began to attract her attention. The cloud on which they sat did not, like the others, just float over the earth, but it went proudly on, and came among the stars, and constellations of stars, and she saw how many were clustered together, and no tongue could describe their beauty; and then the deep blue was ever about her, and she saw it away off in the distance, growing to a darker and darker shade, until it became like the air of midnight; while ever from its darkness shone out those immense stars, and clusters of stars.

Then the most beautiful sight of all was when some star glided past her, and shot afar off into the dark blue beyond there was such dazzling glory in it!

Sometimes they would be quite near enough to the stars they passed to discern the people who dwelt upon them, and she felt for them a friendship at once, and only longed that she might go down and tell them so.

The child had forgotten she was plain and odd; she did not think to ask herself whether the people on those bright stars, so beautiful and happy, might not repulse her for her homeliness.

At last they did approach one bright star, and Ruth saw, to her delight, that, when the cloud had come down into a lovely garden, the old woman stepped off from it, then took her up also, and placed her on the ground. Then the cloud, which had been their chariot (and a far better one it was than ever king had to be drawn in), rose upward, and began its gentle course in the sky.

When the old woman saw how Ruth looked after it, she said to her:

“I use all the clouds in that way, more or less, and all those about your earth do many such a service while the people little dream of it. In fact, every one there looks down upon the ground too much; they have no idea of the goodly things they would find if they searched upwards more.”

The old woman sighed as she said this. Such a happy and pleasant looking old woman to have sighed so deeply!

Then she took Ruth’s hand, and led her towards her cottage, which was the most beautiful thing you ever could imagine. Without, it had the tints of the mother-of-pearl, while its framework was of silver. The windows and doors were of diamonds, and there sparkled from them continually all the rich tints of the rainbow. Within, everything was wrought of the finest silver, and the rooms were hung, some in delicate blue silk, others in rose colors.

Ruth was entirely overwhelmed with the beauty of the house, so much so, as to stand still, looking at the things about her.

“You must be tired with your long ride,” the woman said, “and I wish you to rest well; for there are many things I will show you. After you have rested, I will bring you some food.”

And, with this, she put Ruth upon a sofa, and made her lay quite down, to refresh herself with sleep. But Ruth thought, in her heart, “Rest! Does she think I can be tired, when I have been sitting upon that soft cloud, looking at the wonderful stars? How could I ever be either tired or hungry?” But she said nothing aloud, for the charm of the old woman’s presence hovered over her, and, as soon as she closed her eyes, she fell into a soft and beautiful slumber.

O the dreams Ruth dreamed then! Strangely enough, she thought her father and mother, as well as Grace and Jessie, were riding and playing on clouds; and they were all so happy together, and they seemed to love her very dearly; so that, in her dream, she remembered nothing of their former neglect. She dreamed how her father called her to him, and laid his hand upon her head; and it was such a gentle pressure, and it made her so happy, that she awoke, and there really was a gentle hand upon her head, and a soft kiss fell upon her lips, such a touch, and such a kiss, as poor Ruth had scarce ever known before, and which made her quickly twine her arms around the old woman’s neck, and kiss her warmly.

Then the old woman put her in one of the silver-wrought chairs, and put before her, on plates sparkling with precious stones, soft, ripe fruit, with a delicious flavor, such as she had never before tasted. She could not help thinking how glad Grace and Jessie would be to see such before them; and so, as at that moment she looked up, and saw the old woman smiling upon her, she took two of the most beautiful and the largest of the fruit and put them in her pocket, for she had no doubt but what, at some time, all too soon, she should go back to the earth.

When she had done this, and finished her delicious repast, which, however, was slowly, for she was so filled with delight, the old woman bade her leave her chair, and come to her; upon which she took her in her arms, and, looking lovingly down upon her, said:

“My dear Ruth, I am going to show you all the treasures which the children upon the earth gather together, in order some time to take with them to heaven. I call their treasures what they love most in their hearts, and put into actions. Everything they do or say is kept very carefully; for one day they will want them. So you see they cannot lose anything. Everything in nature, every cloud that seems only leisurely floating in the sky, is serving some purpose. And all that is done below is borne up here.”

Ruth could not help thinking that the old woman might show her some very beautiful and some very curious things to keep; and in sorrow she began to think what unpleasant things of her own were treasured up, to be given back to her some day when she least expected or desired them.

But the old woman said nothing about Ruth’s things, but, taking her hand, led her forth into the garden again.

“I am going to show you some things there are here,” said her friend; “and if they seem ridiculous to you, don’t laugh at them. For my part, I think it sad children will treasure up such miserable things.”

They had soon passed into the garden, where Ruth saw the most delicate flowers she had ever seen they were so tall, and nodded their heads gayly to each other; but when she came to a bed of violets white ones and blue, so large, larger than she thought it was possible for them to grow she stopped to gaze upon them in complete admiration; the fragrance, too, was delicious more so than those her brother had, although those were very fine ones.

“Take some, my child,” said the old woman, who watched her delight with a kind smile. So down upon her knees she dropped, and took them, and she could not help thinking how beautiful and lovely a smile would fall upon her from her mother’s face, as she gave them to her. So the violets, too, were carefully laid in her pocket for her mother.

Then they passed out from the garden, and came to a gray house; withered flowers lay about it, while briers and nettle-bushes clung to its walls; but, worse than all this, there came forth from the house angry, hateful words, and noises of a mad strife. Ruth feared to pass this place, and clung closely to the old woman’s side.

“Here,” said the old woman, kindly putting her arm around Ruth, “are kept all those angry words which children speak to each other and their friends; all their little fretful words when they are impatient, and which they will never wish to see again, but which, alas! will be given back to them at a most unwelcome time.”

Then they went on to another house, the walls of which were black, and not a green thing grew about it.

“There,” said the old woman, “are the treasures of those children who care most for themselves, and do not think of others’ pleasures. Those things which they have so loved are kept carefully for them; but they will only tell them of what they have done for themselves.” So she opened the door, and Ruth looked in. There was such a medley of things! Candies of gay colors, nice waxen dolls, a great many broken toys, nice fruit, and, indeed, I could not begin to tell you of all Ruth saw there. There had come, too, a mould upon many of the things, so many of them had grown tarnished; and a bad stench rose from some fruit which had been there a long time.

“You see, my child,” said the old woman, as she locked up the door, “these things cannot be preserved to look so brightly as when they were first brought here; they all grow rotten; and I cannot prevent the worms creeping in to corrupt them.”

Then they met some very black-looking clouds, loaded with things like those Ruth had seen in the two houses, and they were put in with the rest.

“Alas,” she sighed, “that the children will send up these things!”

Ruth rejoiced to see that, with quick step, her kind guide passed by many more such houses; for they terrified her. She feared she might hear, if she listened well, some complaint she had uttered, or should see some tarnished toy which she had selfishly treasured. No wonder she liked to hasten by the houses!

Then they passed away from the dreary desert places where black houses were, into beautiful plains where the grass was mingled with bright and lovely flowers, and rivulets gracefully flowed along; and here were lovely temples, shining with precious stones, so that Ruth clapped her hands at beholding them. “Here,” said the old woman, “are more beautiful treasures, which are my great glory and delight.”

She showed Ruth one, round which the whitest blossoms grew among green leaves, in which were treasured all the smiles ever given to comfort people who had grief in their heart; and these smiles shed about the whole temple a light like a halo of glory.

In another were the soft, loving words which many children had given others, poorer and lowlier than themselves, to encourage their weak hearts; words which they had given and forgotten, but which had yet been carefully gathered up, and put in this temple. From this temple a low sound of sweet music rose, which filled Ruth’s heart with a perfect peace, as if she had found everything she could ever desire.

In another temple yet were all the words of love, which children express and feel in their hearts to each other. From this temple proceeded louder tones, but yet those of sweetest harmony.

In another, all the gentle, loving words ever whispered to the animals.

“I prize these highly,” said the old woman.

“It is very strange,” said she, looking upon the temples, “that I find these precious treasures thrown about very carelessly upon the earth. The children never dream of their worth, and were I not always ready there, some would be lost. But remember, Ruth, none are suffered to be lost; and so, when the children to whom these belong are going into heaven, they shall find there many a treasure they did not dream of possessing. Thus shall the treasures they had forgotten grow brighter and brighter, while others they had perhaps remembered have grown corrupted and vain!”

At these words, Ruth longed to lay many treasures in the temples, and she heard a song, which the different tones of the temple formed in the air. It melted her heart with its divine harmony.

“O,” cried Ruth “could I but sing such a song to my father! he who loves songs so well. What joy it would be to him!”

“And would you patiently sing the song though he thanked you not?” asked the old woman.

“I desire him only to hear it,” replied Ruth; and at that moment the power came to her, and such a song poured from her throat!

She was so enchanted! But, when glancing in the brook, she saw her own figure so lit up with beauty as scarcely to be able to recognize it. The old woman saw her amazement, and replied to it:

“I will send you back to your home that you may sing this song to your father; and remember, little Ruth, that beauty only is worthy to have which proceeds from the sweetness of thy words and the loveliness of thy smile. In heaven thou mayst be as lovely as thou wilt. Send up, then, fit treasures for the temple, and they will be kept safely until thou needest them.”

Then, as the tones of the old woman’s voice died away, Ruth found herself in the garden again, near her mother’s house, and, had it not been for the fruit and bunch of violets in her pocket, she would have believed it a dream; but, when she went into the house, and gave Grace and Jessie the peaches, and her mother the big, beautiful violets, and began doing all sorts of kind things for every one, she felt how very real it all had been. And then, too, she would sing that beautiful song she had heard in the old woman’s star, and her father, delighted, caught her up in his arms, kissing her again and again.

Ruth did not forget what the old woman had told her how she might bring the beauty of heaven about her form; and when she grew up people loved her, and said, “I would rather look like Ruth, to smile and speak like her, than to have the brightest hair and bluest eyes of any court beauty.”