d in all the twenty years there has never been a
cross word between us, or a look that was less than kind."

The hermit bent his head before the two women, and gave thanks in his
heart. "If my soul is as these," he said, "I am blessed indeed."

And suddenly a great light came into the hermit's mind, and he saw how
many ways there are of serving God. Some serve him in churches and in
hermits' cells, by praise and prayer; some poor souls who have been very
wicked turn from their wickedness with sorrow, and serve him with
repentance; some live faithfully and gently in humble homes, working,
bringing up children, keeping kind and cheerful; some bear pain
patiently, for His sake. Endless, endless ways there are, that only the
Heavenly Father sees.

And so, as the hermit climbed the mountain again, he thought,--

"As he saw the star-like glow
Of light, in the cottage windows far,
How many God's hidden servants are!"

FOOTNOTES:

[35] Adapted, with quotations, from the poem in _The Hidden Servants_,
by Francesca Alexander.

LITTLE GOTTLIEB[36]

Across the North Sea, in a country called Germany, lived a little boy
named Gottlieb. His father had died when he was but a baby, and although
from early morning till late at night his mother sat plying her needle,
she found it difficult indeed to provide food and clothing and shelter
for her little boy and herself.

Gottlieb was not old enough to work, but he would often sit on a small
stool at his mother's feet and dream about the wonderful things he would
do for his dear mother when he grew to be a man, and she was comforted
as she looked upon her boy, and the thought that she was working for him
often gave strength to her tired fingers.

But one night Gottlieb saw that his mother was more than usually
troubled. Every now and then she would sigh, and a tear would trickle
down her cheek. The little boy had grown quick to read these signs of
distress, and he thought, "Christmas will be here soon, and dear mother
is thinking of what a sad time it will be."

What would Gottlieb have given to be able to comfort his mother! He
could only sit and brood, while his young heart swelled and a lump rose
in his throat at the thought that he could do nothing.

Presently, however, a happy fancy came to him. Was not the Christ Child
born on Christmas Day, and did not He send good gifts to men on His
birthday? But then came the thought, "He will never find us.