"Now the ball's beginning." The tallow candle burned brighter as he remembered the happy little girl whose face was more shining than the light of all those wax candles. "I'll never see anything like that again."
The smallest of the poor children reached up, for she was very small, and put her arms around the necks of her brother and sister. What she had to tell them was so important that it had to be whispered. "Tonight we're going to have - just think of it - warm potatoes, this very night."
Her face beamed with happiness and the candle beamed right back at her. He saw happiness again, and a gladness as great as when the little girl in the well-to-do house said, "We're having a ball this evening, and I'm to wear my red ribbon."
"Is it such a treat to get warm potatoes?" the candle wondered. "Little children must manage to be happy here too." He wept tallow tears of joy, and more than that a candle cannot do.
The table was spread and the potatoes were eaten. How good they tasted! It was a real feast. There was an apple for everyone, and the smallest child said grace:
"Now thanks, dear Lord, I give to Thee
That Thou again hast filled me. Amen."
"And didn't I say it nicely?" the little girl asked.
"Don't say such things," her mother told her. "Just thank the good Lord for filling you up."
The children went to bed, were kissed good night, and fell fast asleep. Their mother sat up late and sewed to make a living for them and for herself. From the well-to-do house came light and music. But the stars overhead shone on all the houses, rich or poor, with the same light, clear and kind.
"This has been a wonderful evening," the tallow candle told himself. "Can the wax candle have had any better time of it in his silver candlestick? I'd like to know that before I'm burned out."
He remembered the two happy children, one face lighted up by the wax candle, the other shining in the tallow candle's light. One was happy as the other. Yes, that is the whole story!