"No, of course you do not, but for the time the tableaux are more amusing. It seems to me we must make a distinction between caring for things and finding them entertaining. You may care a great deal for church and yet not find it as amusing as some other places."
"I never thought of it in that way," said Mark, who had come in while they were talking.
"We ought not to care too much for amusement, but try to learn to take pleasure in other things," continued Mrs. Morrison. "We do not love persons or things because we ought to, but because they seem to us lovely; and yet when we think for how long people have gone on building churches—plain little chapels, grand cathedrals—and have worshipped God in them, and found help and blessing, surely we ought not to be willing to say, 'I don't like church,' but should try to find out its beautiful meaning for ourselves."
"I am afraid I am a good deal like Gladys; I have found it rather a bore," said Mark.
"You remember our Christmas picture of the Wise Men," Mrs. Morrison went on. "They had learning and wealth and distinction, and yet they took that long, weary journey for what?"
"The star," said Gladys.
"To find Jesus," said Frances.
"Yes, with all their riches and learning they felt the need of something else, and the star was sent to guide them. And to-day each one of us has some heavenly vision which he must obey and follow as the Wise Men followed the star."
Frances shook her head. "I never had a vision," she said.
"Yes, I think you have sometimes felt what a beautiful thing it would be to be good. Perhaps when you have listened to the Christmas story you have determined to let the Christ-Child into your heart. If you have, it is your vision; and if you obey it, it will grow stronger and clearer. In the midst of all our work and play, the vision often grows dim, but going to God's house and thinking of Him and what He wants us to do, helps to keep it bright."