y
are far away from me. Kwan-yin, is the woman's God, and I feel her
love for me. She shapes my way, and I know it is to her I owe it that
my life flows on as a gentle stream, and I know that she cares for me
and guards me now that thou art away and I have no one on whom to
lean. When I go before her all fire of passion is extinguished in my
heart, and my troubles and cares pass away and become small in the
distance, even as the light of the morning stars pales and wanes at
the coming of the sun. My heart is full of love for her, of a love that I
cannot express. She has heard my prayers and answered them. She
is my Kwan-yin, my Mother of Mercy, and each day I do some little
deed for her, some little thing to show remembrance, so she will know
the hours are not too full nor the days too short for me to place my
offering on an altar built of love.

[Illustration: Mylady10.]

As we turned to leave the temple I glanced back at the great dark
chamber and I saw the God of Light, the Buddha, sitting there so
calm upon his throne, with the light of many candles before him and
clouds of incense that floated to the roof. I thought, "He is all-powerful.
I only prayed to him from out my lips, not with my heart. Perhaps--"
So I returned. I prayed the mighty God with humble prayer to bring my
loved one swiftly home to me; and then we left the temple. We walked
slowly through the courtyards, looking at the great trees that stood
like tall, grim sentinels guarding the place of prayer. Then we were
taken by our bearers to the Goldfish Monastery in the hills. Dost thou
remember it? Thou and I were there once in the springtime.

We bought the small round cakes from the priests and fed the greedy
fish. They swarmed over the pool, pushing, nudging, fighting one
another to get the morsels we threw them. Tiring of that, we had tea
and sweetmeats served upon the terrace; then, after chatting for a
time, we left for the boat. We drifted slowly homeward. Thy Mother
and her friends discussed the earth, the moon, the sun and stars, as
well as smaller matters, such as children, husbands, servants,
schools-- and upon the last thy Mother waxed most eloquent; as thou
knowest, it is a sore subject with her, this matter of the new
education. I heard her say: "All my sons have book knowledge. Of
what use is it in the end? The cock crows and the dog barks. We
know that, but the wisest of my sons cannot say why one crows and
the other barks, nor why th