"I have nothing to say--feel nothing in
me--but a dull love that would bless if it could! And what would words
be if I had them?"
For a few moments she sat thus silent, growing more and more
uncomfortable. But just ere the silent became unendurable, a thought
appeared in the void.
"What a fool I am!" she said again to herself. "I am like little Mark
when he cried because he had only a shilling and saw a boy spend a penny
on a lovely spotted horse! Here have I been all my life wanting to give
my fellow-creatures a large share of my big cake, and the first time I
have an opportunity, I forget all about it! Here it lies locked in my
chest, like a dead bird in its cage!"
A few more moments she sat silent but no longer embarrassed thinking how
to begin. The baby woke and began to whimper. The mother, who rarely let
him off her arm, because then she was not able to take him till help
came, drew him to her, and began to nurse him; and the heart of the
young, strong woman was pierced to the quick at sight of how ill fitted
was the mother for what she had to do. "Can God be love?" she said to
herself. "If I could help her! It will go on like this for weeks and
months, I suppose!"
She had yet to learn that the love of God is so deep he can be satisfied
with nothing less than getting as near as it is possible for the Father
to draw nigh to his children--and that is into absolute contact of heart
with heart, love with love, being with being.
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