A Little Pilgrim | Page 9

never known passion nor anguish. Sometimes
there was in it a far-seeing look of vision, sometimes the simplicity of a
child. "But what are we in comparison? For He loves them more than
we do. When He keeps us from them it is for love. We must each live
our own life."
"But it is hard for them sometimes," said the little Pilgrim, who could
not withdraw her thoughts from those she had left.
"They are never forsaken," said the angel-maiden.
"But oh! there are worse things than sorrow," the little Pilgrim said;
"there is wrong, there is evil, Margaret. Will not He send you to step in
before them, to save them from wrong?"
"It is not for us to judge," said the young Margaret, with eyes full of
heavenly wisdom. "Our Brother has it all in His hand. We do not read
their hearts like Him. Sometimes you are permitted to see the battle."

The little Pilgrim covered her eyes with her hands. "I could not--I could
not! unless I knew they were to win the day."
"They will win the day in the end. But sometimes, when it was being
lost, I have seen in His face a something--I cannot tell--more love than
before. Something that seemed to say, 'My child, my child, would that I
could do it for thee, my child!'"
"Oh! that is what I have always felt," cried the Pilgrim, clasping her
hands; her eyes were dim, her heart for a moment almost forgot its
blessedness. "But He could--Oh, little Margaret! He could! You have
forgotten--Lord, if Thou wilt Thou canst--"
The child of heaven looked at her mutely, with sweet grave eyes, in
which there was much that confused her who was a stranger here; and
once more softly shook her head.
"Is it that He will not, then?" said the other with a low voice of awe.
"Our Lord who died--He--"
"Listen," said the other, "I hear His step on the way."
The little Pilgrim rose up from the mound on which she was sitting.
Her soul was confused with wonder and fear. She had thought that an
angel might step between a soul on earth and sin, and that if one but
prayed and prayed, the dear Lord would stand between and deliver the
tempted. She had meant when she saw His face to ask Him to save Was
not He born, did not He live, and die to save? The angel-maiden looked
at her all the while, with eyes that understood all her perplexity and her
doubt, but spoke not. Thus it was that before the Lord came to her the
sweetness of her first blessedness was obscured, and she found that
here, too, even here, though in a moment she should see Him, there was
need for faith. Young Margaret, who had been kneeling by her, rose up
too and stood among the lilies, waiting, her soft countenance shining,
her eyes turned towards Him who was coming. Upon her there was no
cloud nor doubt. She was one of the children of that land familiar with
His presence. And in the air there was a sound such as those who hear
it alone can describe--a sound as of help coming and safety, like the
sound of a deliverer when one is in deadly danger, like the sound of a
conqueror, like the step of the dearest-beloved coming home. As it
came nearer the fear melted away out of the beating heart of the Pilgrim.
Who could fear so near Him? her breath went away from her, her heart
out of her bosom, to meet His coming. Oh, never fear could live where

He was! Her soul was all confused, but it was with hope and joy. She
held out her hands in that amaze, and dropped upon her knees, not
knowing what she did.
He was going about His Father's business, not lingering, yet neither
making haste; and the calm and peace which the little Pilgrim had seen
in the faces of the blessed were but reflections from the majestic
gentleness of the countenance to which, all quivering with happiness
and wonder, she lifted up her eyes. Many things there had been in her
mind to say to Him. She wanted to ask for those she loved some things
which perhaps He had overlooked. She wanted to say, "Send me." It
seemed to her that here was the occasion she had longed for all her life.
Oh, how many times had she wished to be able to go to Him, to fall at
His feet, to show Him something which had been left undone,
something which perhaps for her asking He would remember to do. But
when this dream of her life was fulfilled, and the little Pilgrim kneeling,
and