I listened—quiet and still, there came a voice:
“This path is mine, not thine; I made the choice.
Dear child, this service will be best for thee and me
If thou wilt simply trust and leave the end with me.”
And so we travel on.
(3419)
WANDERER’S RETURN
A widowed lady of mature life mourned a runaway son who was lost to her for years. Her sorrow had silenced her song, for she was a cultured woman and an accomplished vocalist. But during a visit at a distant friend’s home she was induced to sing at a church service, choosing for her solo, “Where is my wandering boy to-night?” and, of course, sang it with much feeling; and after rendering the second stanza:
“Once he was pure as the morning dew,
As he knelt at his mother’s knee,