Knitting.


"I WAS just thinking, mother," said Rachel.

"Thinking about what?" asked Mrs.

Harland, seeing that her daughter did not

complete the sentence she had begun.

"It was something about knitting. Mrs.

Barclay said this morning, as she passed the

window and saw me at work: 'That is soft

and beautiful yarn, but not half so soft and

beautiful, I trust, as that yarn you are knitting

into your life.' I've been thinking

ever since what she could have meant, and

it's just come to me."

"Has it? I am glad you thought it out

for yourself. What is merely told us often

goes no deeper than the memory; but if we

think out anything for ourselves, it becomes

more real to us, and more our own. We

understand it better."

"Yes, I am sure of that," replied Rachel.

"And what do you think Mrs. Barclay

meant?" asked Mrs. Harland.

"I suppose that she meant that our

thoughts and feelings were like yarn, and

that every day we were knitting them into

our lives."

"I think that was her meaning," replied

her mother. "If day by day we knit pure

thoughts and kind, gentle feelings into our

lives, we shall not only form for ourselves

beautiful characters that will make

our presence a charm and a blessing to others,

but will acquire a heavenly quality that

will draw near to us, as like draws like, the

angels of God, with their protecting power,

though we may not perceive their presence."

A tender thoughtfulness was in the eyes

of Rachel. She did not answer, but looked

down at her knitting, and, as the soft thread

passed through her fingers, she pondered

this new lesson in the book of life. 




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