The wisdom of nature that made the protective coverings of birds and
beasts had given her her armour--made her grow her armour out of her
surroundings. This thought made her gasp. She sat still a very long time
letting it sink in.
"I wonder," she said slowly, looking out over the lake, a pool of fire
in the setting sun, "if that's why Jesus died. He didn't want to, I
think. He loved the quiet things of the world, little children and
talking to friends, and doing things with his hands. I wonder if he had
to die, when his teaching was finished, so that those others he loved
might not get to depend on him too much? We're so fond of getting
propped. I don't think people ought to have a Good Shepherd. Unless they
only want to be silly sheep all their lives. And here I've been Good
Shepherding Louis all this time till now he can't get along without my
crook round his arm."
It was many years since she had consciously prayed, but now she thought
of her father's prayers, and whispered:
"God--You know all about this muddle of mine. You gave Louis to me so
that, in the end, he might be a path for You to walk along. I've tried
to be a path for You towards him, but I thought I'd better help You
along. I couldn't keep quiet. Oh how silly of me! God, I see now that
I've been all wrong. I've been keeping him out of the world when I
ought, all the time, to have been making him brave enough to face the
evil in the world.
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