A long time ago, a young, wealthy girl was getting ready for bed. She was saying her prayers when she heard a muffled crying coming through her window. A little frightened, she went over to the window and leaned out.
Another girl, who seemed to be about her age and homeless was standing in the alley by the rich girl’s house. Her heart went out to the homeless girl, for it was the dead of winter, and the girl had no blanket, only old newspapers someone had thrown out.
The rich girl was suddenly struck with a brilliant idea. She called to the other girl and said, “You there, come to my front door, please.”
The homeless girl was so startled she could only manage to nod.
As quick as her legs could take her, the young girl ran down the hall to her mothers closet, and picked out an old quilt and a beat up pillow. She had to walk slower down to the front door as to not trip over the quilt which was
hanging down, but she made it eventually. Dropping both the articles, she opened the door. Standing there was the homeless girl, looking quite scared.
The rich girl smiled warmly and handed both articles to the other girl. Her smile grew wider as she watched the true amazement and happiness alight upon the other girl’s face. She went to bed incredibly satisfied.
In mid-morning the next day a knock came to the door. The rich girl flew to the door hoping that it was the other little girl there. She opened the large door and looked outside. It was the other little girl. Her face looked happy, and she smiled. “I suppose you want these back.”
The rich little girl opened her mouth to say that she could keep them when another idea popped into her head. “No, I want them back.”
The homeless girl’s face fell. This was obviously not the answer she had hoped for. She reluctantly laid down the beat up things, and turned to leave when the rich girl yelled, “Wait! Stay right there.”
She turned in time to see the rich girl running up the stairs and down a long corridor. Deciding whatever the rich little girl was doing wasn’t worth waiting for she started to turn around and walk away. As her foot hit the first step, she felt someone tap her on the shoulder, turning she saw the rich little girl, thrusting a new blanket and
pillow at her. “Have these.” she said quietly.
These were her own personal belonging made of silk and down feathers.
As the two grew older they didn’t see each other much, but they were never far from each other’s minds. One day, the Rich girl, who was now a Rich woman got a telephone call from someone. A lawyer, saying that she was requested to see him.
When she arrived at the office, he told her what had happened. Forty years ago, when she was nine years old, she had helped a little girl in need. That grew into a middle-class woman with a husband and two children. She had recently died and left something for her in her will. “Though,” the lawyer said, “it’s the most peculiar thing. She left you a pillow and a blanket.”
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