Many of God's children

Many of God's children sit in darkness

There is a picture of a woman seated on the low rocks, looking out upon a wild sea, down into which the treasures of her heart have gone. Her face is stony with hopeless, despairing grief.

Almost touching the black robe of the mourner, hovering over her shoulder, is the shadowy form of an angel softly touching the strings of a harp.

But she is unaware of the angel's nearness. She bows in silent unconsciousness, with breaking heart and unsoothed sorrow — while the heavenly consolation is so close.

Just so, many of God's children sit in darkness , crushed by their sorrows, yearning for comfort and for an assurance of the Divine love and sympathy, hearing no soft music, no whisper of consolation — while close beside them the Master Himself stands unperceived, and Heaven's sweetest songs float unheard in the very air they breathe.

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