“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Well, now this thing—its like a little bird singing in my heart. Ever since I was a little girl, times would come when that little bird would begin singing. Maybe ’twould be a pretty day and me down washing clothes at the spring; maybe ’twould be something preacher said in church; maybe ’twould be Jimmy shouting and hollering out in the woods, or his pa coming up the trail and letting out a yell to tell me he was on the way. But when the bird sang best, dear, was when I’d done something that I knew I ought to do and that it was hard to do. Now it was hard for me to take you away from those folks, for I don’t like to run counter to no one. I like friends and I hate foes, and I had to make foes of them people. But they wouldn’t listen to what was right and reasonable, and I had to do the way I done. But all last night when we was climbing the trail in the dark, and when the storm got us, and when we lay in that filthy den, and most of all this morning when I woke up and found you there beside me, the bird was singing in my heart. It sings sweeter than any of these here birds round about, though they sing sweet enough, goodness knows. But it’s just as if something new was come into the world—it’s just as it was the day Jimmy was born and lay on my arm and I knew I had a little son of my own. Why, it’s just the way it was the day I found I had a Saviour, and learned that the love of my Heavenly Father was round about me, and that I could walk in it and fear nothing. Did you ever feel like that, Azalea?”
The girl turned her great eyes on her. “No’m, I don’t think I ever did.”
“Well, you will, Azalea, you will! I’m going to tell you all about that. I’m going to tell you every good thing I know. And you must tell me all you know, too, for I’m an unschooled woman, who’s worked hard and not seen much. But anyway, even for me, I can see that life has trails that lead up the mountain. Don’t you like to be here on the mountain top, child?”
“Oh, I do, ma’am. I think it’s the most beautiful place I ever did see!”
“Well, and I was studying about your poor ma. Just think, to-day whatever there is to know over beyond life, she’s knowing. She was brave, wasn’t she, and kind?”
“Yes’m, Oh, yes’m—good to folks and animals and everything.”
“And it will be counted to her. It’s just got to be. She’s happy and safe to-day; but maybe she wouldn’t have been happy if she couldn’t have known you was safe, too, Azalea.”
“Do you think she knows, ma’am?”
“I think she knows! I can’t sit here on this mountain top and see them birds winging along and hear the wind blowing and the water singing and have the little bird singing away in my heart and not think she knows. Someway, it’s like two and two. When you add them they make four. I can’t explain what I mean, but I’m trusting, Azalea, and I’m happy.”