"I am not a little child, Mrs. Flaxman," I remonstrated.
"Your are in some ways, darling. Your mother's prayers for her children have been answered. Those God has already taken are safe; and you are one of His little ones whose angel one day shall behold His face in joy."
"I am glad my mother prayed for us; God is so sure to answer a mother's prayers. I suppose it is because they are really in earnest. But did she ask anything special?"
"That you might be kept pure from the world's pollution, and get what was really for your good. Her letters to Mrs. Winthrop were full of this: They are all preserved among Mr. Winthrop's papers, and some day he will give them to you."
"She was a Christian, I think, like Mr. Bowen,—one who really had a hold on God."
"I never knew one so unspotted from the world. I too shall call her mother if I meet her in the Heavenly places; for it was she brought me to Jesus."
"Mrs. Flaxman, is it easy to come to Him,—to be His disciple?"
"So easy, the way-faring man, though a fool, need not find it too difficult."
"I believe Christ has said to me as He did to the Magdalene: 'Daughter, thy sins, which are many are all forgiven thee.' Is it not grand to be His child? There is nothing in the world I want so much as to do His will."
"You stepped out of your way, Medoline, to help others, and they have done more in return than you gave," she said, the tears filling her eyes.