"Yes, my lady; but it must be with a holy love that we love our neighbor, because he is the creature of God, the child of the same Father. Many our kind from a dislike to feel pain or to witness pain, but this is not the true worship required by God, who says we must love him with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our strength. This real love submits in all things to his holy will, because it gives 'self' into his keeping."
"But if you could see you might read of God, and learn to love him better?"
"I never could read, my lady," was the reply.
"Then where did you get your knowledge?" asked Annie.
"The priest taught me my catechism, my lady and every Sunday and holiday he explained it, and for many a long year I never missed the lesson. Then we often had instructions at Mass, and he taught us the rosary and the way of the cross. Ah! it is not the good father's fault if the children of his congregation do not know their religion."
"And you never went to school?"
"To none other than the school of poverty which our Lord founded and blessed," said the old woman. "Oftentimes we had scarcely potatoes enough to eat, though we little ones tried to work as well as the big ones; but labor was worth very little at that time, and afterward my father took sick and lay for a long time helpless. We had hard times of it in my young days."
"And did your mother take it very much to heart?"
"No, not very much. She grieved when my father died, though she hoped and believed he was happy, and would smile through her tears while she told us so. But for the rest, we all knew that it was not fine clothes or dainty food that would make us happy: we knew that we should have as much of both as it was God's will to send us, and we tried not to wish for more. When we were cold and hungry mother would gather us round her, and talk of that solemn midnight at Bethlehem when, under the clear frosty sky, the angels came to the shepherds, singing songs of glory, because the Lord of heaven and earth lay poor and helpless in the stable at Bethlehem. Then she would tell us of the long, dreary flight into Egypt, when Mary and Joseph begged hospitality by the way, because they loved poverty, for it made them more immediately dependent upon God. Then she showed us the poverty of Nazareth, and of the time of his ministry, who had not where to lay his head; and we became not only reconciled to poverty, we tried to love it for his sake, who became poor for our sakes. So you see, my lady, we could not be unhappy even when sorrow was upon us."
"Twas a sublime philosophy," said Annie.