Stepping Heavenward | Page 8

She folded the paper, and put it into her
pocket. We walked home together, after school, as usual, but neither of
us spoke a word. And now here I sit, unhappy enough. All my
resolutions fail But I did not think Amelia would take me at my word,
and rush after that stuck-up, smirking piece.
May 20.-I seem to have got back into all my bad ways again. Mother is
quite out of patience with me. I have not prayed for a long time. It does
not do any good.
May 21.-It seems this Underhill thing is here for health, though she
looks as well as any of us. She is an orphan, and has been adopted by a
rich old uncle, who makes a perfect fool of her. Such dresses and such
finery as she wears! Last night she had Amelia there to tea, without
inviting me, though she knows I am her best friend. She gave her a
bracelet made of her own hair. I wonder Amelia's mother lets her
accept presents from strangers. My mother would not let me. On the
whole, there is nobody like one's own mother. Amelia has been cold
and distant to me of late, but no matter what I do or say to my darling,
precious mother, she is always kind and loving. She noticed how I
moped about to-day, and begged me to tell her what was the matter. I
was ashamed to do that. I told her that it was a little quarrel I had had
with Amelia.
"Dear child," she said, "how I pity you that you have inherited my
quick, irritable temper."
"Yours, mother!" I cried out; "what can you mean?"
Mother smiled a little at my surprise.

"It is even so," she said.
"Then how did you cure yourself of it? Tell me quick, mother, and let
me cure myself of mine."
"My dear Katy," she said, "I wish I could make you see that God is just
as willing, and just as able to sanctify, as He is to redeem us. It would
save you so much weary, disappointing work. But God has opened my
eyes at last."
"I wish He would open mine, then," I said, "for all I see now is that I
am just as horrid as I can be, and that the more I pray the worse I
grow."
That is not true, dear," she replied; "go on praying-pray without
ceasing.
I sat pulling my handkerchief this way and that, and at last rolled it up
into a ball and threw it across the room. I wished I could toss my bad
feelings into a corner with it.
"I do wish I could make you love to pray, my darling child," mother
went on. "If you only knew the strength, and the light, and the joy you
might have for the simple asking. God attaches no conditions to His
gifts. He only says, 'Ask!'"
"This may be true, but it is hard work to pray. It tires me. And I do wish
there was some easy way of growing good. In fact I should like to have
God send a sweet temper to me just as He sent bread and meat to Elijah.
I don't believe Elijah had to kneel down and pray for them.

Chapter 2
.
II. June 1.
LAST Sunday Dr. Cabot preached to the young. He first addressed
those who knew they did not love God. It did not seem to me that I

belonged to that class. Then he spoke to those who knew they did. I felt
sure I was not one of those. Last of all he spoke affectionately to those
who did not know what to think, and I was frightened and ashamed to
feel tears running down my cheeks, when he said that he believed that
most of his hearers who were in this doubtful state did really love their
Master, only their love was something as new and as tender and
perhaps as unobserved as the tiny point of green that, forcing its way
through the earth, is yet unconscious of its own existence, but promises
a thrifty plant. I don't suppose I express it very well, but I know what
he meant. He then invited those belonging to each class to meet him on
three successive Saturday afternoons. I shall certainly go.
July 19.-I went to the meeting, and so did Amelia. A great many young
people were there and a few children. Dr. Cabot went about from seat
to seat speaking to each one separately. When he came to us I expected
he would say something about the way in which I had been brought up,
and reproach me for not profiting more by the instructions and example
I had at