“‘My dear, I know how much you love him; but I must say to you that you may have to spend the rest of your life without him; and do you think that he—that God would be satisfied if it should be passed in grieving?’
“‘Oh! grandmamma, it cannot be so!’
“‘My child, you must be patient and take what comes. God afflicts us all our days, and does not tell us why, but we must receive the cup, no matter how bitter, knowing whose hand it is that offers it. I cannot bear to see you thus resisting His will.’
“‘I did not think—I did not mean it. I will try to be better; but indeed, indeed I cannot help feeling the heart-ache about papa, and sometimes I wake, feeling so sad that I am almost afraid to stay alone.’
“‘I think it would be very strange and unnatural, my dear, if you did not grieve; but sorrow may be selfish, too. It is the duty of every one to strive to be happy and cheerful for the sake of those around. Every one has a certain influence—the youngest and feeblest of us. Your sad face makes many an unhappy hour for those around you. I have passed through more pain and sorrow than you can dream of, my child, and yet I am content—because I trust it all to God, and know that whatever befalls, “He doeth all things well.” It is your duty, my dear, to join with the rest and try to feel more happy.’
“I did not think this possible, and could not understand how I was to control my feelings at all. I had learned to act according to certain rules and laws of conscience, but feeling seemed another thing. I think, if a long letter from papa upon this very subject had not come to me, I should have gone on in ignorance of the meaning of her words. He called this trouble my ‘cross,’ and told me to bear it ‘ever patiently, looking upward in hope and cheerfulness.’
“So I tried, and soon learned to laugh and be gay with the rest. I had been called a good child and gentle tempered; but sometimes the wild, undisciplined children vexed me beyond measure, and after some outbreak the tears would come in abundance, for fear I was going backwards, and papa, when he came, would be disappointed. I used to be frightened at my own anger and vehemence, and once, after a quarrel, ran to grandmamma in great grief, to complain that—
“I had never seen such children in my life—that they were making me as bad as themselves.
“‘My dear,’ answered my wise grandmother, ‘remember, you have never been with children before—your temper has not been tried—you have not known yourself—these temptations are showing you to yourself—be careful not to let them get the better of you. “He that ruleth his own spirit is greater than he that taketh a city.” The trouble with you is that you want to have every thing your own way, and because others are not so neat and so precise as yourself, you lose patience, and so make trouble about you. There are not two persons in the world alike. If it were not for love and the beautiful spirit of patience which God gives us if we ask Him, there would be nothing but jarring and wrangling everywhere. You cannot live alone; no one will find happiness in such a life—neither would it be right. Therefore you must learn to bear and forbear; your life will be a sad mistake if you do not.’
“So I endured Cora’s sleeping in my room and leaving her clothes in a heap in the middle of the floor, in grim silence. I tried not to wince when she turned over, so carelessly, my books and music, and when she overturned my inkstand in my writing desk, I restrained my tears, and after the first flash of angry feeling, I tried quietly to repair the damage without a word. Cora seemed much amazed at this conduct, so unlike the past, and after a stare of astonishment, told me heartily and freely that she was very sorry.