“She shall be broken,” answered Destiny, “yet not her spirit. That shall return victorious to God, who sends it forth.”
“Tell me one thing,” pleaded the mother, “Shall the joy of my child outweigh her sorrow?”
“The angels sang at the birth of One who was destined to be crucified for the world. Did the joy of the crucified outweigh the sorrow?”
“I do not know,” she answered.
“According to her strength her joy shall be like unto His joy, and her sorrow like unto His sorrow.”
And the mother said, “God’s will be done.”
And when the veil was removed it seemed as though the little room was full of those shining presences who had drawn near to her from the singing hosts of heaven.
“I am Wisdom,” said one, and laid a hand upon the woman’s head. “I give to your child what is mine.” “I am Vision,” cried another, kissing her eyes, saying, “For the child’s sake.” And Love was revealed, as Love reverently touched the child where she lay beneath the mother’s heart, saying: “It is I who give to women the courage that amazes strong men.” “Take from me for the child that shall be born, my double-edged sword, the spirit and the word,” said one: “My name is Inspiration.”
Then once more there was wafted upon the air the singing of the heavenly host—and the outside wall had disappeared again, and the garret was open to the sky. And the heart of the woman sang with the joy of the angels: “For unto us a child is born.” ...