nt a word for what is so stingless as this.
And yet God the Father, who gives the love, understands and knows how
much may lie behind two words and two dates. "Given . . . Taken . . ."
Only indeed we do bless Him when the cup holds no bitterness of fear or
of regret. There is nothing ever to fear for the little folded lambs. If
only the veil of blinding sense might drop from our eyes when the door
opens to our cherished little children, should we have the heart to toil
so hard to keep that bright door shut? Would it not seem almost selfish
to try? But the case is different when the child is not lifted lovingly
to fair lands out of sight, but snatched back, dragged back down into
the darkness from which we had hoped it had escaped. This work for the
children, which seems so strangely full of trial of its own (as it is
surely still more full of its own particular joy), has held this
bitterness for us, and yet the bitter has changed to sweet; and even now
in our "twilight of short knowledge" we can understand a little, and
where we cannot we are content to wait.

Four years ago, after much correspondence and effort, a little girl was
saved from Temple service in connection with a famous Temple of the
South from which few have ever been saved. She had been dedicated by her
father, and her mother had consented. Devai got a paper signed by them
giving her up to us instead. But shortly after she left the town, the
father regretted the step he had taken, and followed Devai, unknown to
her. Alas, the child had not been with us an hour before she was carried
off.

For two years we heard nothing of her. Old Devai, who was broken-hearted
about the matter, tried to find what had been done with her, but it was
kept secret. She almost gave up in despair.

At last information reached her that the child was in the same town; and
that her father having died of cholera, the mother and another little
daughter were in a certain house well known to her. She went immediately
and found the older child had not been given to the gods. Something of
her pleadings had lingered in the father's memory, and he had refused to
give her up. But the mother was otherwise minded, and intended to give
both children to the Temple. Devai had been guided to go at the critical
time of decision. The mother was persuaded, and Devai returned with two
sheaves instead of one--and even that one she had hardly dared to
expect. Once more we were called to hold our gif