Sometimes I think my husband was struck down too, that I might have the more to fill my time and thoughts during the months following. For a long while he improved so slowly, it could hardly be called getting on at all; and though the doctor spoke of a measure of recovery, I knew he never could be a strong man again. We didn't dare at first to hope that he would ever get back his walking-power. And though things were better than we feared, and he did in time gain strength to move slowly with a stick, yet he has always been something of an invalid, needing a lot of care, and not able to do much in the way of work.
The lodging-house plan was a success. From the time we first began, I never knew for the next three years what it was to have empty rooms in spring, or summer, or autumn; and we were able to lay by for winter months. Miles too earned more, and he brought all his earnings to me. It is wonderful how, one way and another, we were helped.
But isn't that the way? If trouble comes, and we put our trust in God, isn't help sure?
I don't mean just a careless indifferent sort of confidence that things will get right somehow, but a real living trust in the Fatherly love of God, and in the willingness of Christ our Lord always to hear when we pray, and to do for us what we really need. That can never be in vain. The help mayn't come exactly as we should choose; but one way or another it will come.
THE END.
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