Silence all. No one dared to volunteer. None felt worthy to do so great a thing.
Out spoke a shy little wren. “Last night I slept in a notch close over a church window, and the window was open and there was a meeting of the people there and the minister read out of the Bible these words: ‘The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth his handiwork.’”
FOR HE WAS A BASHFUL BIRD.
She paused a moment to gather courage, and then said, “Why couldn’t the heavens teach theology?”
“THE HEAVENS SHALL TEACH THEOLOGY.”
“Bless your heart, little wren, that is the very thing,” cried the blustering north wind. And all the flowers cried,—“The heavens shall teach theology!”
The sky bowed its assent and said, “I will do my best to perform the wonderful work entrusted to me.”