It was a bright morning in the old city of Rome many hundred
years ago. In a vine-covered summer- house in a beautiful garden, two boys were
standing. They were looking at their mother and her friend, who were walking
among the flowers and trees. "Did you ever see so handsome a lady as our
mother's friend?" asked the younger boy, holding his tall brother's hand.
"She looks like a queen." "Yet she is not so beautiful as our
mother," said the elder boy. "She has a fine dress, it is true - but
her face is not noble and kind. It is our mother who is like a queen."
"That is true," said the other. "There is no woman in Rome so
much like a queen as our own dear mother." Soon Cornelia, their mother,
came down the walk to speak with them. She was simply dressed in a plain, white
robe.
Her arms and feet were bare, as was the custom in those days - and no
rings or chains glittered about her hands and neck. For her only crown, long
braids of soft brown hair were coiled about her head - and a tender smile lit
up her noble face as she looked into her sons' proud eyes. "Boys,"
she said, "I have something to tell you." They bowed before her, as
Roman lads were taught to do, and said, "What is it, mother?"
"You are to dine with us today, here in the garden - and then our friend
is going to show us that wonderful casket of jewels of which you have heard so
much." The brothers looked shyly at their mother's friend. Was it possible
that she had still other rings besides those on her fingers? Could she have
other gems besides those which sparkled in the chains about her neck? When the
simple outdoor meal was over, a servant brought the casket from the house. The
lady opened it. Ah, how those jewels dazzled the eyes of the wondering boys!
There were ropes of pearls, white as milk, and smooth as satin - heaps of
shining rubies, red as the glowing coals - sapphires as blue as the sky that
summer day - and diamonds that flashed and sparkled like the sunlight.
The
brothers looked long at the gems. "Ah!" whispered the younger, "if
our mother could only have such beautiful things!" At last, however, the
casket was closed and carried carefully away. "Is it true, Cornelia, that
you have no jewels?" asked her friend. "Is it true, as I have heard
it whispered, that you are poor?" "No, I am not poor," answered
Cornelia, and as she spoke she drew her two boys to her side, "for here
are my jewels. They are worth more than all your gems." The boys never
forgot their mother's pride and love and care - and in after years, when they
had become great men in Rome, they often thought of this scene in the garden.
And the world still likes to hear the story of Cornelia's jewels.
No comments:
Post a Comment