That
was five or six years ago: and for a long time I delved away without
interest or pleasure, merely as a safety-valve for my energies, and
a means of living; for I gave up all my earlier hopes and plans when
the trouble came.
"I did not love my work; but it was good for me, and helped cure my
sick soul. I never guessed why I felt better, but dug on with
indifference first, then felt pride in my garden, then interest in
the plants I tended, and by and by I saw what they had done for me,
and loved them like true friends."
A broad woodbine leaf had been fluttering against David's head, as
he leaned on the slender pillar of the porch where it grew. Now, as
if involuntarily, he laid his cheek against it with a caressing
gesture, and sat looking over the garden lying dewy and still in the
moonlight, with the grateful look of a man who has learned the
healing miracles of Nature and how near she is to God.
"Mr. Power helped you: didn't he?" said Christie, longing to hear
more.
"So much! I never can tell you what he was to me, nor how I thank
him. To him, and to my work I owe the little I have won in the way
of strength and comfort after years of effort. I see now the
compensation that comes out of trouble, the lovely possibilities
that exist for all of us, and the infinite patience of God, which is
to me one of the greatest of His divine attributes.
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