Miss Jennifer Heathcote’s Miraculous Thanksgiving Birthday Gift

“When Miss Heathcote had te-covered the power of speech, she turned to Selga and was about to ask whither came this most unusual Thanksgiving dish, but was interrupted by such a stream of words as she had never before known that silent tongue to utter. It was a prayer for forgiveness for her own rash conduct, and for a shelter for the helpless one before them. The babe’s unfortunate mother was dead—there was no one to claim it. Selga had accidentally discovered the circumstances and had yesterday promised the dying woman to care for it. Her intention had been to pay some one to nurse it, but last night, lying awake and thinking of the thousand times she had heard the note of longing pain in Miss Jennifer’s sweet voice when near a little one, all suddenly the idea was borne in upon her. Here was a home ready prepared for the homeless waif—a home, the sweetness and peace of which she knew so well by long experience. ... Miss Heathcote, awakening from her trance of surprise as if by magic, all her latent motherhood surging up in her heart, she bent over the dish and tenderly lifted the morsel of humanity in her two strong, capable, womanly hands. She pressed him to her breast softly and looking at her assembled friends with a flush on her cheek and tears in her eyes she said, “This is my bithday gift from God—my son—and today shall be truly remembered as—Thanksgiving Day.” — The Young Woman's Journal 15:11”