"You know the Bible is the most beautiful book in the world. It has hundreds of verses as lovely as those about the shepherd. This is one: Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. Fear Him means fear to displease Him on account of our love for Him and His love for us."
It was so long since the boy had heard any mention of love that he looked up at her, still gloomily.
"You know how unhappy you always were when you displeased your mother, and you know how she pitied you for your mistake and drew you back to her—and forgave you."
"Yes—yes, I do."
"That is the way God does with us. So you see it isn't a bad thing to be pitied with love. If you ever think again of what your uncle said, just turn away from it and know that Love is taking care of you every minute. God is always here, waiting to bless us."
"I'd—I'd rather see Him," said the boy.
"Your friends are His messengers," said Mrs. Lowell.
"What—what friends have I?"
"Me, for one," replied his companion. As she leaned toward him with her spontaneous grace, he met her affectionate regard with his piteous eyes.