“Grandmamma,” he exclaimed, “I am never going to pray to God again as long as I live!”
“Why, Sam!” exclaimed his astonished grandmother, “what do you mean?”
“Billy can’t see,” he answered, “and here I have been praying and praying for all this time; and Mary says there is a pony dog-cart for me in the stable, and I didn’t want it! I just wanted to have Billy see!” and Sam threw himself upon the lounge and burst into a violent fit of sobbing.
Mrs. Ledwell hardly knew what to do, but she did the best thing she could possibly have done. She let the little boy expend the violence of his grief, and then she seated herself by him and gently stroked the hair back from his hot forehead. When the weeping grew less violent and she knew the little boy could listen, she said,—
“You must remember, Sam, that there are a great many little boys and girls all over the world asking God for different things, and he can’t answer all at once. It takes a long time, you know, so you must be patient and wait a little longer.”
“But I didn’t ask for anything else,” sobbed Sam, “and he has gone and sent me the dog-cart, after all; and I was very particular to say that I didn’t want it.”
“By next summer, Sam, I am quite sure that Billy can see, and think what fine drives you and he can have together!”
“Summer is a long way off,” replied Sam, “and I did so want Billy to see now!”
“We can’t have things come about just as we want them, my dear little boy,” said Grandmamma.