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Crowley, Mary Catherine

"Apples, Ripe and Rosy, Sir"

At last, however, her mother good-naturedly yielded the
point, saying, with a laugh, "Oh, very well, child! But I never before
knew you to object to having a pretty dress." And Eugenia was very
sure she never had.
The great day finally arrived. To picture it, or to describe the joy
which filled the soul of each of our first communicants, is not the
purpose of this story. But as the white-robed band entered the convent
chapel, to the incongruous throng of fashionable people there assembled
their appearance was the strongest possible sermon against vanity.
Their soft white gowns were as simple as the most refined taste could
make them, and as beautiful; their fleecy veils enfolded them as with
holy thoughts; their wreaths of spotless blossoms signified a fairer
crown. They numbered seven originally, but now among them walked
another. Which little girl was the stranger, however, only one mother
knew,--a humble woman, who, as she knelt amid the congregation,
silently invoked a blessing upon the children who by their
thoughtfulness had made possible her pious desire that her child might
be appropriately and respectfully attired to welcome the coming of Our
Lord.


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