“Never mind, father, I’ll do all I can, and be as good as I can.” And she wound her arms around her father’s neck and kissed him.
If she only could have known how much that kiss comforted her father. He went back into the darkened room with a lightened heart and a feeling that there must be something in religion, for it had changed Margaret wonderfully.
Margaret snatched the first hour that came to her to write a letter to Aunt Cornelia, telling her how impossible it was for her to come to her, and how very sorry she was, and soon there came a long, sympathetic, helpful answer, and with it a little book bound in green and silver. “To help you when you feel discouraged,” the good auntie wrote.
On the first page Margaret opened, her eyes met these words:
“God’s will is like a cliff of stone,
My will is like the sea.
Each murmuring thought is only thrown
Tenderly back to me.
God’s will and mine are one this day,
And ever more shall be,