“Mother Graham is here,” she suggested.
“Tell me where and I will go to her,” the man said humbly.
As he turned away, Gerald caught his hand. The natural life and color were returning to his small face.
“When I get—my dry clothes on—will you draw me—some more—with that pencil?” he pleaded.
“I surely will, son!”
Above his head the man and woman looked at each other again and there was a light on their faces like the dawning of a new day. But neither voiced the thought which was in both their minds—“And a little child shall lead them.”
Transcriber’s note
Minor punctuation errors have been changed without notice.