. Our Lord, to be sure, does not
really _need_ our services. He could quite easily dispense with them.
But He lets us work for Him somewhat as a mother lets her little child
do things for her--not because she needs the child's help, but because
she loves to see the child trying to please her. "And yet, Mrs. Prentiss
(asked one of the ladies), does there not come a time when the child is
really of service to the mother?" "I thank you for the suggestion (she
replied); I left my remark incomplete. Yes, it is true such a time does
come. And so, in a certain sense, it may be said, perhaps, that God
needs the services of His children. But how easily He can dispense with
the best and most useful of them! One may seem to have a great task to
perform in the service of the Master, but in the midst of it he is taken
away, and, while he is missed, the work of God goes right on. God does
not see such a difference as we do, she said, between what we call
great and small services rendered to Him. A cup of cold water given in
Christ's name, if that is all one can give, is just as acceptable as the
richest offering; and so is a tea-spoonful, if one has no more to give.
Christ loves to be loved; and the smallest testimony of real love is
most pleasing to Him. And love shown to one of His suffering disciples
He regards as love to Himself. So a little child, just carrying a flower
to some poor invalid, may thus do Christ honor and become more endeared
to Him. There is no one, old or young, who has not the power of blessing
other souls. We all have far more influence, both for good and evil,
than we dream of."

In the course of her talk she alluded to the trials of life and the
shortness of them at the longest. We are all passing away, one after
another. Our intimate friends will mourn for us when we are gone, but
the world will move on just the same. And we should not allow ourselves
to be troubled lest when our time comes we may be afraid to die. Dying
grace is not usually given until it is needed. Death to the disciple of
Jesus is only stepping from one room to another and far better room of
our Father's house. And how little all the sorrows of the way will seem
to us when we get to our home above! I suppose St. Paul, amidst the
bliss of heaven, fairly _laughs_ at the thought of what he suffered for
Christ in this brief moment of time. And as she said this, she gently
waved her hand in the way of emphasis. No one of us who saw it will soo