OCR Text |
Show enthusiastic. I am interested in my work, in the patients, and most of all in the people who help me daily in the hospital. I could talk to you all day, about them, but I am not going to,-at least not until you are somewhat rested, Here is something to rest you, these long beds of portulacas, a carpet of all shades of orange and yellow, red and pink, deep colors and pale tints. So beautiful they are they always rest one. No matter how hot and tired and burdened one may be, he sees in these bright little faces looking up the promise of Him who cares for the lilies and sparrows, and cares much more for these His ignorant suffering children, and for us who try to serve Him by serving them. Here we are back at the ''ladies house'', The cool quiet is very restful after the confusion of the afternoon. Let me get you a drink of cold water, and while I am gone here is a little poem by Lucy.Rider Myer that a friend sent me. Having been in the dispensary half a day, you will understand why she sent it. The Burden. ' 'Oh , God' ' , I cried , ' 'why may I no t- forget? These halt and hurt in life's hard battle throng me. yet. Am I their keeper? Only I to bear this constant burden of their grief and care? Why must I suffer for the other's sins- Would God my eyes had never open "been''. And the thorn crowned and patient One replied, ''They throng Me too, I, too, have seen''. ''Thy other children go at will'', I said, protesting still. ''They go unheeding-But these sick and sad, these blind and orphan, Yea, and those that sin drag at my heart, for them I serve and groan. Why is it? Let me rest, Lord, I have tried''. He turned and looked at m e - ' 'But I have died' ' . '-But, Lord, this, ceaseless travail of my soul, this stress, This often fruitless toil,these souls to win; They are not mine . I brought not forth this host Of needy creatures, struggling, tempest tossed, they are not mine' ' . He looked at them the look of one divine . Then turned and looked at me-''But they are mine''. ''Oh, God'', I understand at last. Forgive! And hence forth, I will bond slave be, to Thy least weakest, vilest ones, I would not more be free''. He smiled and said, - ''It is for Me'' . |