tontop was even happier than the little boy, who was very happy indeed. Now three of the flags began to think about the grand parade—how proud they would feel and how gaily they would wave—how splendid to be held high by one of the rich little boys. I’m sorry to say that each began to hope that the last, poor boy, would choose one of the others. And at this very moment the friendly breeze began to settle down for the night. (He had worked hard all day and deserved a rest.) “ Splendid!” thought these three proud flags, “Now we won’t have to wave and maybe we won’t be chosen.” And with this they drooped sadly around their stands. But the fourth flag, the Littlest Flag with an Eagle on Top, began to feel sorry for the last boy. “ Why, he is just the one who needs a flag,” he thought, “ I could make him the happiest because he has been the saddest. I want to help him.” And with that the Littlest Flag with an Eagle on Top stood very tall and began to wave back and forth, back and forth, as gaily as he knew how. He waved so cheerfully and stood so hand somely that the last little boy would have none other. His face was bright with happiness as he carried him out of the shop. The parade was all that the flags had dreamed of and more. Great bands played i row after row of soldiers marched by; and it seemed as if all the flags in the world were waving. The flags from Cottontop’s show window knew that they had never seen a more splendid sight. They waved and waved and waved and waved until Anally they had to stop to rest, and the friendly breeze worked so hard that he decided to take the next day for a holiday. When the parade was over at last, the Littlest Flag with an Eagle on Top was tightly clasped in the hand of his owner and carefully carried to a new home. On the way he was surprised to see his three flag friends resting against a spruce tree where they had been left soon after the parade. “Hello there!” he called to them, “ aren’t you going home, too?” “No,” they said, quietly, “ our owners got tired of us. They have so many other toys they don’t need us anyway. What is to-become of us now?” And as the Lit tlest Flag with an Eagle on Top was carried farther and farther away, he could still hear them say, “ Too bad! Too bad!” But the Littlest Flag with an Eagle on Top was carried carefully to his brand-new home—not a rich home, but a happy one, and the Littlest Flag with an Eagle on Top knew that there he too would be cared for and happy. Have you always wanted the best for yourself or have you tried to help those who have the least and need you the most? God’s Word tells us that it is more blessed to give than to receive. When we are helpful and not selfish, the end will always be happy, just as it was for the Littlest Flag with an Eagle on Top.
The Littlest Flag with the Eagle on Top By Carol Perkins D ONG, dong, dong!” went the old tower bell. “ One, two, three,” it began, “ four, five— dong, dong.”
Policeman McCarthy’s whistle rang through the air as he directed the late afternoon traffic. A friendly, playful breeze was blowing, and right into the little toyshop on the corner. Into the window it went past a colorful Fourth of July display. A toy army was march ing and a band was playing. Four small flags in the window waved cheerfully. They were glad that the sun was shin ing, the wind was blowing, but, most of all, that tomorrow was the Fourth. If someone would only buy them! Cottontop, the toy shop keeper, began to set things in order for the night. Storybook dolls had to be sent to bed, and boats and cars put away. Cottontop was hoping just once to close at five. Always some boy or girl bounced in at the very last blink of time to see every purple top, every green pencil, or all the red balls. Of course Cottontop didn’t really mind, for it was great fun to own a toy shop. (And here’s a secret—Cot tontop enjoyed those toys every bit as much as did the boys and girls!) Cottontop had dusted off the last counter and was standing on tiptoe to “ click” off the lights when, sure as a cricket’s chirp, he heard some short run ning steps and a knock. “ Now who can that be?” he asked, although I’m afraid he knew quite well. “ Past five, toys put away, and counters dusted,” he grum bled. “ But I’ll go see just this once more,” he ended abruptly as he whisked over to the toy shop door. When the door was opened, whom should he see but three of his most fre quent and prosperous little customers triumphantly waving some bright new coins. They were splendidly dressed and wore the gayest of holiday smiles. “We want to buy three flags,” they an nounced, “ for tomorrow is the Fourth and there’s a big parade.” “ Flags is it? Well, all right,” said Cottontop, thinking of the fun they would have, and he led them over to the flags in the window. “ There they are,” he said, “ and mighty well alike, except for one.” And so they were, except for the very last flag beside the very last soldier. This flag was smaller than the rest and he alone wore for a crown a tiny, beautifully-shaped, shiny American eagle. Now when the flags saw Cottontop and three such fine boys coming their way, well, you can just guess they all stood straight and tall, and they waved a little more gaily than even the breeze could blow them. Of course you can’t blame them. “Such fine boys,” they thought, “what fun to be waved by them at the parade, and just when we thought we should never get out of this store window!” So each tried to outwave the other.
Although the choice was difficult, the boys had nearly decided on their flags when Cottontop noticed another small boy who had come in quietly and was standing with his nose pressed close against the showcase window. “ Well, son, what can I do for you?” Cottontop opened his mouth to ask when he noticed this boy’s ragged clothing. Although Cottontop could see that this boy would certainly like something, he wondered if the boy had any money. “ Lovely flags, aren’t they?” began Cottontop, noticing what had captured his attention. “ Oh, yes, sir, such fun for a parade!” Then he stopped. “ But I didn’t bring any money.” Now if there was anything Cottontop liked more than happy toys, it was hap py children. As he thought of this little boy with no flag to wave tomorrow, it was the easiest thing in the world for him to say, “ Look now, these boys are going to buy just three, and I can’t leave the other one there all alone to miss the fun. I shall just have to give you one too. Then everyone will be happy. And you must choose first of all.” Then Cot-
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