It humbled
her. It made her meanness, her low, weak life so plain to her!
There was no pain nor hunger she had known that did not find a
voice in its articulate cry. SHE! what was she? The pain and
wants of the world must be going up to God in that sound, she
thought. There was something more in it,--an unknown meaning of
a great content that her shattered brain struggled to grasp. She
could not. Her heart ached with a wild, restless longing. She
had no words for the vague, insatiate hunger to understand. It
was because she was ignorant and low, perhaps; others could know.
She thought her Master was speaking. She thought that unknown
Joy linked all earth and heaven together, and made it plain. So
she hid her face in her hands, and listened, while the low
harmony shivered through the air, unheeded by others, with the
message of God to man. Not comprehending, it may be,--the poor
girl,--hungry still to know. Yet, when she looked up, there were
warm tears in her eyes, and her scarred face was bright with a
sad, deep content and love.
So the hot, long day was over for them all,--passed as thousands
of days have done for us, gone down, forgotten: as that long, hot
day we call life will be over some time, and go down into the
gray and cold. Surely, whatever of sorrow or pain may have made
darkness in that day for you or me, there were countless openings
where we might have seen glimpses of that other light than
sunshine: the light of that great To-Morrow, of the land where
all wrongs shall be righted.
Pages:
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97