Philosophy and science do not trouble her. She says her prayers thinking
about other things and when she grows older stops saying them, save at
church.
Oftentimes as a little girl she receives no religious instruction, never
enters a church and the name of God drops in curses from her own lips.
Only now and then fear of the future takes possession of her for a
moment. Only in great stress of unusual suffering or pain, or in the
presence of awful sorrow is her soul stirred to ask the little girl's
question, "What is Heaven like?"
Sometimes the bitterness of her lot causes her to treat the idea of God
with scorn. "Look at me," she said one day in my presence. "What have I
done that God should punish me with the troubles I've got. There ain't
no God, that's what I say, anyways."
Poor girl! The church must give to her the God whom she can trust and
love, but it will have to give Him in widespread, simple justice. First
she must see Him in _deeds_ and then in words.
The girl amidst the squalor of wretched conditions in heartless cities,
needs a God who is her defender and champion as well as her Savior. When
some wise instructor or inspired friend can give to her this view of the
Lord God of Hosts, the Father of all, who seeks through His children to
save His children her salvation has begun.
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