She had borne up under the waves and billows, of sorrow, to the surprise of others, because she heard:
But one day she seemed alone in her grief. The voice of the Comforter had such a far-off sound, that her heart did not respond, as was its wont, “Even so, Father,” but instead, thinking herself alone, she cried in bitterness of soul, “I cannot bear it! I cannot!”
Burying her face in her hands she sobbed aloud. Presently she felt an arm around her neck, and heard in a loving tone:
“I’m sorry for you, auntie.”
The unexpected words of sympathy increased the sobs for a time, and then half-ashamed that the child should have seen her so overcome, she tried to smile through her tears, saying:
“I am weak today, darling, but it seems to me as if I cannot bear my grief any longer.”
The child lovingly patted the tear-stained face for a little, and then she picked up a rubber band, through which she put her little hands, and childlike stretched it back and forth, until a happy thought seemed to strike her, and she said:
“See, auntie, how I do with the rubber. I stretch it until I see it won’t bear any more without breaking, and then I let up. Say, don’t you think, auntie, God does that with folks, sometimes?”
The thoughtful illustration was surely heaven-sent, for to the sorrowing one it brought the words of comfort: