"You think, 'way deep inside your head, an' see if He isn't here," I heard Calliope say.
Little Child shut her eyes tightly, and though she did open them briefly to see what was on the plate which they set before her, I think that she found the truth.
"I 'most know," she said presently. "Pretty near I know He is. I guess I'm too little to be sure nor certain. When I'm big will I know sure?"
"Yes," Calliope answered, "then you'll know sure."
"I 'most knew Who He is while Calliope was talkin'" ... I said over once more. And suddenly in the words and in the homely talk and in the happy comradeship I think that I slipped between the seeing and the knowing, and for a moment stood very near to the Custodian—Himself. The Custodian Who is in us all, Who speaks, now as you, now as I, most clearly in our human fellowship, in our widest kinship, in the universal togetherness. Truly, it is not as my neighbour once said, for I think that God has many and many to "neighbour with," if only we would be neighbours.
Presently, as if it knew that it belonged there, the sunset came, a thing of wings and doors ajar. Then Miggy fastened the leaves in Little Child's hair and led her down to dance on the broad, flat stone which is an instrument of music. Above the friendly murmur of the shallows the little elf child seemed beckoning to us others of the human voices on the shore. And in that fair light it was as if the river were some clear highway, leading from Friendship Village to Splendour Town, where together we might all find our way.