"Her eye-sight was failing, and she should not be able to work
much longer,--but, then, God would provide. _Somebody_ ought to
see to the poor, motherless girl."
It was not merely the greatness of the act, for one in such
circumstances, but the quiet matter-of-course way in which it was
done, that showed the habitual tone of the mind, and made us feel that
life could hardly do more for a human being than to make him or her
the _somebody_ that is daily so deeply needed, to represent the
right, to do the plain right thing.
"God will provide." Yes, it is the poor who feel themselves near to
the God of love. Though he slay them, still do they trust him.
"I hope," said I to a poor apple-woman, who had been drawn on to
disclose a tale of distress that, almost in the mere hearing, made me
weary of life, "I hope I may yet see you in a happier condition."
"With God's help," she replied, with a smile that Raphael would have
delighted to transfer to his canvas; a Mozart, to strains of angelic
sweetness. All her life she had seemed an outcast child; still she
leaned upon a Father's love.
The dignity of a state like this may vary its form in, more or less
richness and beauty of detail, but here is the focus of what makes
life valuable.
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