. "You can't take
any of my children! The judge took Pietro Corrello's boy last
week--but you can't have mine! Go away from here!"

"I don't want your children," said Carmen, smiling up at the
frightened, suspicious mother. "I want you. I want you to help me to
help all of these people here who need us. The mills are running only
half time, aren't they? The people do not have enough to eat. But we,
you and I, are going to make things better for them, for everybody
here, aren't we?

"But first," she went on hastily, to further allay the poor woman's
fears and to check additional protest, "suppose we plan our dinner.
Let's see, Tony, what would you like?"

The boy's lips instantly parted. His eyes began to glisten. He glanced
inquiringly at his mother; but no sign came from her. Then he could no
longer contain himself:

"Spaghetti!" he blurted. "Soup! Buns!"

Carmen drew out her purse and turned to the woman. "Come with me," she
said. "While we are gone, Tony and the children will wash the dishes
and set the table. Come."

For a moment the woman looked uncomprehendingly at the girl, then at
her children, and then about the miserable room in which they were
huddled. Amazement and confusion sat upon her heavy features. Then
these gave way to another dark look of suspicion. She opened her
mouth--

But before she could voice her resentment, Carmen rose and threw an
arm about her. Then the girl quickly drew the startled woman to her
and kissed her on the cheek. "Come," she whispered, "get your shawl.
We'll be back soon."

God's universal language is the language of love. All nations, all
tribes understand it. The flood-gates, long barred, swiftly opened,
and the tired, miserable woman sank sobbing upon the bed. She could
not comprehend what it was that had come so unannounced into her
dreary existence that cold winter morning. People were not wont to
treat her so. Her life had been an endless, meaningless struggle
against misery, want, grinding oppression. People did not put their
arms around her and kiss her thus. They scoffed at her, they abused
her, they fought with her! She hated them, and the world in which she
lived!

"I know, I know," whispered Carmen, as she drew the sobbing woman's
head upon her shoulder. "But things will be better now. Love has found
you."

The woman suddenly raised up. "You--you are--from heaven? An angel?"
She drew back, and a frightened, superstitious look came into her
face.

"Y