Florence Morse Kingsley

oh grandmother cried the child take me with you i know you will go away when the match burns out you too will vanish like the warm stove the splendid new year's feast the beautiful christmas tree and lest her grandmother should disappear she rubbed the whole bunch of matches against the wall and the matches burned with such a brilliant light that it became brighter than noonday her grandmother had never looked so grand and beautiful she took the little girl in her arms and both flew together joyously and gloriously mounting higher and higher far above the earth and for them there was neither hunger nor cold nor care they were with god but in the corner at the dawn of day sat the poor girl leaning against the wall with red cheeks and smiling mouth frozen to death on the last evening of the old year stiff and cold she sat with the matches one bundle of which was burned she wanted to warm herself poor little thing people said no one imagined what sweet visions she had had or how gloriously she had gone with her grandmother to enter upon the joys of a new year end of the little match girl by hans christian andersen recording by sarah

THE STAR by Florence M. Kingsley Recording by Pam Castile Once upon a time, In a country far away from here, there lived a little girl named Ruth.

Ruth's home was not at all like our houses, for she lived in a little tower on top of the great stone wall that surrounded the town of Bethlehem.

Ruth's father was the hotel-keeper, the Bible says the inn-keeper.

A few days after, an angel came to the father Joseph, told him to take the baby and hurry to the land of Egypt for the wicked king wanted to do it harm and so these three the father mother and baby went by night to the far country of Egypt and the star grew dimmer and dimmer and passed away forever from the skies over Bethlehem but little Ruth grew straight and strong and beautiful as the almond trees in the orchard and all the people who saw her were amazed for Ruth was once a cripple.

It was the light of the strange star, her mother said, but little Ruth knew it was the touch of the blessed Christ child who was once folded against her heart.

End of The Star by Florence M. Kingsley Recording by Pam Castile

Fireside Christmas Short Stories by Various The Baby's Things, A Story in Verse for Christmas Eve by Edward Abbott i the work of the day had been laid aside and now in the edge of the eventide she lingered awhile in her favorite seat by a window that overlooked the street silent and thoughtful dreamy and sad strangely so for a time so glad but the somber hue of the dress she wore and the look of sorrow her features bore showed that it had been hers to know the weight of a father's chastening blow there she sat leaning and looking away over the snow that covered the ground over the buildings that clustered round over the hills that rose beyond at the lingering sunset's rich display she watched the shapes as they came and went the sinking sun as his brightness spent and as she watched the scene seemed changed and forms and colors were rearranged until a glimpse as she fancied came of the heavenly city jerusalem the city that knew no setting sun no dawning day and no night begun the glory of god its unfading light and the lamb that was slain its radiance bright nor did fancy end its painting here the picture became more full and clear The cloudy masses that banked the sky Were the walls of the city, great and high.

And so, farewell.

Florence Morse Kingsley, West New Brighton, Staten Island, New York, October 26th, 1894.

End of Appendix.

And so, farewell.

Florence Morse Kingsley West New Brighton, Staten Island, New York October 26th, 1894 End of Appendix

The hardest part was figuring out where to go.

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Chapter 1 of The Heart of Philura by Florence Morse Kingsley.

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For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Anne Fletcher, 2017.

The Heart of Philura by Florence Morse Kingsley.

Chapter 1.

The Hidden Picture.

For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ann Fletcher, 2017.

Neighbors by Florence Morse Kingsley.

Chapter One.

Yes, I guess it looks full as well plain like that as any of them fancy ways, mused Miss Bennett as she gazed at the neat black lettering on its white ground, which proclaimed her name and occupation to a waiting world.

I declare, I can feel that sign all through my system like a girl would her engagement ring, but I suppose we'll get used to it after a spell.

End of chapter one.

Chapter two of Neighbors by Florence Morse Kingsley.

This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.