He turned his head away. “Ah, child,” he murmured, “you will find that out in the world people don’t love God in this day and generation. At least they don’t love Him that way.”
“They don’t love Him enough to trust him?” she asked wistfully.
“No.” He shook his head sadly. “Nobody trusts Him, not even the preachers themselves. When things happen, they rush for a doctor, or some other human being to help them out of their difficulty. They don’t turn to Him any more. They seldom speak His name.”
“Have––they––forgotten Him?” she asked slowly, her voice sinking to a whisper.
“Absolutely!” He again buried his head in his hands.
The child stood in silence for some moments. Then:
“What made them forget Him, Padre?”
“I guess, chiquita, they turned from Him because He didn’t answer their prayers. I used to pray to Him, too. I prayed hours at a time. But nothing seemed to come of it. And so I stopped.” He spoke bitterly.
“You prayed! You mean––”