Sometimes the bitterness of her lot causes her to treat the idea of God with scorn. "Look at me," she said one day in my presence. "What have I done that God should punish me with the troubles I've got. There ain't no God, that's what I say, anyways."
Poor girl! The church must give to her the God whom she can trust and love, but it will have to give Him in widespread, simple justice. First she must see Him in deeds and then in words.
The girl amidst the squalor of wretched conditions in heartless cities, needs a God who is her defender and champion as well as her Savior. When some wise instructor or inspired friend can give to her this view of the Lord God of Hosts, the Father of all, who seeks through His children to save His children her salvation has begun.
Oftentimes one meets the gentle, trustful, lovable little girl who asks her question and receiving the answer accepts it, never to doubt it through all the years, never to ask the great universal questions again. Sometimes it is because the answers were so wisely given, sometimes because the depths of the girl's mental and spiritual life are never touched. She has a comfortable faith, earnest, true, honest and sincere. It does not embrace the world, nor is it deeply concerned with the great problems with which the world wrestles. It is not necessary perhaps that it should be. The girl is naturally religious, trustful and believing. Her sweet, untroubled faith blesses the life of every day.
Those who are interested in the religion of girlhood and young womanhood are filled with hope today as they listen to the answers which are being given by wise mothers and teachers, to the great questions of the universe. The answers leave room for a growing religion which grows as the girl grows.
A while ago my friend walked through the country fields with a little six year old. My friend says she has left behind an "outgrown religion." Her complacence and cynicism received a shock that afternoon. A lamb which was the baby of the flock had been made a special pet by the children and came immediately when the six year old called. The days were getting cold and the lamb's woolly coat was thick. My friend, intending to instruct the child said, "Put your hand on the lambie's thick wool. Cold days are coming and Nature makes the lamb's wool nice and warm."
"Yes," answered the child, her eyes shining, "the Heavenly Father makes its coat warm. He didn't give them a papa like mine to get their clothes. He gives them to them himself."
My friend was surprised by the words and before she could think of a suitable reply, the child continued—
"He tells the birdies to go down where it's warm and there are flowers all the time. Just a few stay here when it's cold and they have warm feathers. The bear and the foxes and the horsie and kitty,—the Heavenly Father makes all their coats warm. He is very, very busy," she added impressively.
For weeks during the preparations which nature makes for the coming winter, my friend, hitherto satisfied with abstract law found her mind going back to the Heavenly Father "very, very busy" in the great world He had made. She was so impressed that she went with the child to her kindergarten class in school and in Sunday-school and in both she heard of the love and care of the Heavenly Father.