e girl from the city with a burden to carry! What would I do if
I had a father who was surely growing strong and a mother who had smiled
through the days of the sickness? What would I do if I longed to go back
to the life of pleasure and happiness when my duty lay here? What would I
do if I had forgotten the books that might be read during the long winter
nights for which there had been no time in the city; the lessons of
patience and loyalty that might be learned in doing the hard thing; the
happiness of really being needed? What would I do if I were you and were
lonely and discouraged and heartsick?

I would be true, for there are those that trust me;
I would be pure, for there are those who care;
I would be strong, for there is much to suffer;
I would be brave, for there is much to dare.

I would be friend of all--the foe, the friendless;
I would be giving, and forget the gift;
I would be humble, for I know my weakness;
I would look up, and laugh, and love, and lift.[A]

"Aye, little girl from the city, I would go back into the little home
under the hill with all its comfort, and home-likeness, and wealth of
love, and I would look up to God for help; I would laugh at the hard
things and help them to vanish from sight; I would love the dear ones who
are dearer to you than life itself; and I would lift, not only their
burden, but that of others who need you in this beautiful valley."

Slowly the face was again set into the lines that others saw and the head
of the girl dropped deeper into the moss. For a long time there was no
sign that she had heard. Then she lifted a face, full of light, to that of
the Old Man of the Mountain.

"Thank you, my friend," she said. "I have lifted my eyes unto the hills
and help has come. I will go back to the little white house and, with
God's help, I will look up, and I will laugh, and I will love, and I will
lift."

So she ate her lunch by the calm, little mountain lake and the tiny
breezes whispered in her ears. Then she walked again the winding road that
led down to the home. But the sky was blue and full of beauty; the birds
heard an answering call; the little brook gave her to drink, and the
chipmunk found on his stump a little piece of the cake from the box. Her
face was smiling and her heart full of courage, for she had looked unto
the hills--and God had answered.

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[A] Poem by Harol