Nettie's Daily Bread.
A little girl in a wretched attic, whose sick mother had no bread, knelt
down by the bedside, and said slowly: "Give us this day our daily
bread." Then she went into the street and began to wonder where God kept
his bread. She turned around the corner and saw a large, well-filled
baker's shop.
"This," thought Nettie, "is the place." So she entered confidently, and
said to the big baker, "I've come for it.
"Come for what?"
"My daily bread," she said, pointing to the tempting loaves. "I'll take
two, if you please--one for mother and one for me."
"All right," said the baker, putting them into a bag, and giving them to
his little customer, who started at once into the street.
"Stop, you little rogue!" he said, roughly; "where is your money?"
"I haven't any," she said simply.
"Haven't any!" he repeated, angrily; "you little thief, what brought you
here, then?"
The hard words frightened the little girl, who, bursting into tears,
said: "Mother is sick, and I am so hungry. In my prayers I said, 'Give
us this day our daily bread,' and then I thought _God meant me to fetch
it, and so I came_."
The rough, but kind-hearted baker was softened by the child's simple
tale, and instead of chiding her or visiting threats of punishment, as
is usually the case, he said: "_You poor, dear girl; here, take this to
your mother_," and he filled a large basketful and gave it to her.