英语故事:The Shroud

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There was once a mother who had a little boy of seven years old, who was so handsome and lovable that no one could look at him without likinghim, and she herself worshipped him above everything in the world.    Now it so happened that he suddenly became ill, and God took him to himself; and for this the mother could not be comforted, and weptboth day and night. But soon afterwards, when the child had been buried, it appeared by night in the places where it had sat and played during its life, and if the mother wept, it wept also, and when morning came it disappeared.    As, however, the mother would not stop crying, it came one night, in the little white shroudof flowers round its head, and stood on the bed at her feet, and said, "Oh, mother, do stop crying, or I shall never fall asleep in my coffin, for my shroud will not dry because of all thy tears, which fall upon it." The mother was afraid when she heard that, and wept no more.   The next night the child came again, and held a little light in its hand, and said, "Look, mother, my shroud is nearly dry, and I can rest in my graveinto God's keeping, and bore it quietly and patiently, and the child came no more, but slept in its little bed beneath the earth.

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