for the grandmother every
day, the grandfather reluctantly consented.

At this the child gave a bound, shouting: "Oh grandfather, now
grandmother won't ever have to eat hard, black bread any more. Oh,
everything is so wonderful now! If God Our Father had done immediately
what I prayed for, I should have come home at once and could not have
brought half as many rolls to grandmother. I should not have been able
to read either. Grandmama told me that God would make everything much
better than I could ever dream. I shall always pray from now on, the
way grandmama taught me. When God does not give me something I pray
for, I shall always remember how everything has worked out for the
best this time. We'll pray every day, grandfather, won't we, for
otherwise God might forget us."

"And if somebody should forget to do it?" murmured the old man.

"Oh, he'll get on badly, for God will forget him, too. If he is
unhappy and wretched, people don't pity him, for they will say: 'he
went away from God, and now the Lord, who alone can help him, has no
pity on him'."

"Is that true, Heidi? Who told you so?"

"Grandmama explained it all to me."

After a pause the grandfather said: "Yes, but if it has happened, then
there is no help; nobody can come back to the Lord, when God has once
forgotten him."

"But grandfather, everybody can come back to Him; grandmama told me
that, and besides there is the beautiful story in my book. Oh,
grandfather, you don't know it yet, and I shall read it to you as soon
as we get home."

The grandfather had brought a big basket with him, in which he carried
half the contents of Heidi's trunk; it had been too large to be
conveyed up the steep ascent. Arriving at the hut and setting down his
load, he had to sit beside Heidi, who was ready to begin the tale.
With great animation Heidi read the story of the prodigal son, who
was happy at home with his father's cows and sheep. The picture showed
him leaning on his staff, watching the sunset. "Suddenly he wanted to
have his own inheritance, and be able to be his own master. Demanding
the money from his father, he went away and squandered all. When he
had nothing in the world left, he had to go as servant to a peasant,
who did not own fine cattle like his father, but only swine; his
clothes were rags, and for food he only got the husks on which the
pigs were fed. Often he would think what a good home he had left, and
when he remembered how good his father