Heidi had climbed on to a chair and had already lifted down the book, bringing a cloud of dust with it, for it had lain untouched on the shelf for a long time. Heidi wiped it, sat herself down on a stool beside the old woman, and asked her which hymn she should read.
"What you like, child, what you like," and the grandmother pushed her spinning-wheel aside and sat in eager expectation waiting for Heidi to begin. Heidi turned over the leaves and read a line out softly to herself here and there. At last she said,
"Here is one about the sun, grandmother, I will read you that." And Heidi began, reading with more and more warmth of expression as she went on,—
The morning breaks,
And warm and bright
The earth lies still
In the golden light—
For Dawn has scattered the clouds of night.
God's handiwork
Is seen around,
Things great and small
To His praise abound—
Where are the signs of His love not found?
All things must pass,
But God shall still
With steadfast power
His will fulfil—
Sure and unshaken is His will.
His saving grace
Will never fail,
Though grief and fear
The heart assail—
O'er life's wild seas He will prevail.
Joy shall be ours
In that garden blest,
Where after storm
We find our rest—
I wait in peace—God's time is best.
The grandmother sat with folded hands and a look of indescribable joy on her face, such as Heidi had never seen there before, although at the same time the tears were running down her cheeks. As Heidi finished, she implored her, saying, "Read it once again, child, just once again."
And the child began again, with as much pleasure in the verses as the grandmother,—