It chanced one day, as Father Gottlieb was looking on at the builders’ toil, that he stood close beside the child of whom I have spoken, and looking up to heaven he cried,—
“Blessed are those who are counted worthy to serve Him! Yea, thrice blessed, for their reward shall be great!”
Then the child, looking up into the face of the monk, took courage to ask a question.
“Of whom dost thou speak, holy father? Who are these blessed ones?”
And the monk laid a hand upon his head as he answered,—
“All are blessed—thou and all thy fellow-labourers; for ye serve a gracious and kindly Master, who will bless all your toil for Him.”
But the child answered and said,—
“Nay, but mine is a hard taskmaster. Day by day do I do my part, and toil in the heat of the sun. Yet ofttimes he gives me harsh words, and never a blessing. I am weary to death of such service.”
But the monk looked down at the child with a searching gaze and made answer,—
“Ah, my child, thou hast not yet learned whom thou dost serve. He is no harsh Taskmaster. He is gracious and loving, and full of compassion and tender mercy. And blessed are those who are permitted to toil for Him, and raise up temples to His honour and glory!”