"But I remember so well how I use to flounder through just such needless anxieties, and life looks so different, so very different, to me now from what it did then! What should you think of a man who, having just sowed his field, was astonished not to see it at once ripe for the harvest, because his neighbor's, after long months of waiting, was just being gathered in?""Do you mean," I asked, "that by and by I shall naturally come to feel and think as other good people do?""Yes, I do.You must make the most of what little Christian life you have; be thankful God has given you so much, cherish it, pray over it, and guard it like the apple of your eye.Imperceptibly, but surely, it will grow, and keep on growing, for this is its nature.""But I don't want to wait," I said, despondently."I have just been reading a delightful book, full of stories of heroic deeds-not fables, but histories of real events and real people.It has quite stirred me up, and made me wish to possess such beautiful heroism, and that I were a man, that I might have a chance to perform some truly noble, self-sacrificing acts.""I dare say your chance will come," she replied, "though you are not a man.I fancy we all get, more or less, what we want.""Do you really think so? Let me see, then, what I want most.But I am staying too long.Were you particularly busy?""No," she returned smilingly, "I am learning that the man who wants me is the man I want.""You are very good to say so.Well, in the first place, I do really and truly want to be good.Not with common goodness, you know, but-""But uncommon goodness," she put in.
"I mean that I want to be very, very good.I should like next best to be learned and accomplished.Then I should want to be perfectly well and perfectly happy.And a pleasant home, of course, I must have, with friends to love me, and like me, too.And I can't get along without some pretty, tasteful things about me.But you are laughing at me! Have I said anything foolish?""If I laughed it was not at you, but at poor human nature that would fain grasp everything at once.Allowing that you should possess all you have just described, where is the heroism you so much admire for exercise?""That is just what I was saying.That is just what troubles me.""To be sure, while perfectly well and happy, in a pleasant home;with friends to love and admire you--"
"Oh, I did not say admire," I interrupted.
"That was just what you meant, my dear."
I am afraid it was, now I come to think it over.
"Well, with plenty of friends, good in an uncommon way, accomplished, learned, and surrounded with pretty and tasteful objects, your life will certainly be in danger of not proving very sublime.""It is a great pity," I said, musingly.
"Suppose then you content yourself for the present with doing in a faithful, quiet, persistent way all the little, homely tasks that return with each returning day, each one as unto God, and perhaps by and by you will thus have gained strength for a more heroic life.""But I don't know how."
"You have some little home duties, I suppose?""Yes; I have the care of my own room, and mother wants me to have a general oversight of the parlor; you know we have but one parlor now.""Is that all you have to do?"
"Why, my music and drawing take up a good deal of my time, and I read and study more or less, and go out some, and we have a good many visitors.""I suppose, then, you keep your room in nice lady-like order, and that the parlor is dusted every morning, loose music put out of the way, books restored to their places-""Now I know mother has been telling you."
"Your mother has told me nothing at all."
"Well, then," I said, laughing, but a little ashamed, "I don't keep my room in nice order, and mother really sees to the parlor herself, though I pretend to do it.""And is she never annoyed by this neglect?"
"Oh, yes, very much annoyed."
"Then, dear Katy, suppose your first act of heroism tomorrow should be the gratifying your mother in these little things, little though they are.Surely your first duty, next to pleasing God, is to please your mother, and in every possible way to sweeten and beautify her life.You may depend upon it that a life of real heroism and self-sacrifice must begin and lay its foundation in this little world, wherein it learns its first lesson and takes its first steps.""And do you really think that God notices such little things ?""My dear child, what a question! If there is any one truth I would gladly impress on the mind of a you Christian, it is just this, that God notices the most trivial act, accepts the poorest, most threadbare little service, listens to the coldest, feeblest petition, and gathers up with parental fondness all our fragmentary desires and attempts at good works.Oh, if we could only begin to conceive how He loves us, what different creatures we should be!"I felt inspired by her enthusiasm, though I don't think I quite understand what she means.I did not dare to stay any longer, for, with her great host of children, she must have her hands full.
March 25.-Mother is very much astonished to see how nicely I am keeping things in order.I was flying about this morning, singing, and dusting the furniture, when she came in and began, "He that is faithful in that which is least "-but I ran at her my brush, and would not let her finish.really, really don't deserve to be praised.
For I have been thinking that, if it is true that God notices every little thing we do to please Him, He must also notice every cross word we speak, every shrug of the shoulders, every ungracious look, and that they displease Him.And my list of such offences is as long as my life.
March 29-Yesterday, for the first time since that dreadful blow, Ifelt some return of my natural gayety and cheerfulness.It seemed to come hand in hand with my first real effort to go so far out of myself as to try to do exactly what would gratify dear mother.
But to-day I am all down again.I miss Amelia's friendship, for one thing.To be sure I wonder how I ever came to love such a superficial character so devotedly, but I must have somebody to love, and perhaps I invented a lovely creature, and called it by her name, and bowed down to it and worshiped it.I certainly did so in regard to him whose heart less cruelty has left me so sad, so desolate.
Evening.-Mother has been very patient and forbearing with me all day.
To-night, after tea, she said, in her gentlest, tenderest way, "Dear Katy, I feel very sorry for you.But I see one path which you have not yet tried, which can lead you out of these sore straits.You have tried living for yourself a good many years, and the result is great weariness and heaviness of soul.Try now to live for others.
Take a class in the Sunday-school.Go with me to visit my poor people.You will be astonished to find how much suffering and sickness there is in this world, and how delightful it is to sympathize with and try to relieve it."This advice was very repugnant to me.My time is pretty fully occupied with my books, my music and my drawing.And of all places in the world I hate a sick-room.But, on the whole, I will take a class in the Sunday-school.
