What Is the Message?

[Written Especially for Children]

As the writer once saw a group of messenger boys separate and hurry away in different directions, each bearing tidings of some sort, the thought came to her that we are all messengers; and the boys and girls who are hired to take communications of which they know nothing from one office or house to another, are also carrying, at the same time, messages of their own, consciously or unconsciously, and people are receiving them.

A Scientist once lived where, just at dusk every night, a small boy came down the street to light the lamps. And he was always whistling—oh, so cheerily! Tramp, tramp, marched the sturdy feet along the sidewalk, to the tune of his whistle, which threaded the gloaming like a bright streak following after him. The young lamplighter did not know that his whistled message brightened someone's thought, just as the light he carried kindled the gas jets along the street. Well we know how merely a friendly glance has brought to us a message of assurance and joy when we were feeling a little chilled, perhaps, by discouragement. And how often a genial tone of voice has brought us tidings of good even more welcome than the words that were said! On the other hand, alas! disgruntled or uncivil messages, murmuring or discontented ones, curt or ill-tempered communications, may be conveyed by looks and gestures even more speedily and directly than by words.

Yes, we are all messengers, all day long, and it is well to think what messages our manner, speech, and action are bringing to those around us. Do they express helpfulness, encouragement, and glad tidings, or are they discomforting, hindering ones that might make others feel hurt, sad, or disturbed? The poet, Robert Browning, has written one of his finest poems about a little factory girl who was given a rare holiday, and was so thankful for it that she went singing along through all the happy hours. And the poem tells how, though she never knew the effect of her little songs, they bore their messages to different people at some grave crisis in their lives, as she passed under their windows.

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Poem
More Light, Dear God!
December 31, 1932
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