[Written for the Sentinel]

"Lift up the lad"

A mother sat and watched beside her babe.She was alone, for she had shut the doorOn those who felt her trust was wrongly placed;And now she strove to silence the false claimThat Life could be within a matter form.Beyond the door there ever seemed to standA grim, dark figure that would terrifyThe fearful, suffering, human mother-love.

It seemed indeed a wilderness of thought.There was no one in all the house who knewThe precious password to the place she sought—That sweet and sacred place of the Most High,That inner shrine where she could lay her childAnd know him safe from every gloomy fear;By her that word of Truth seemed now forgot—The potent word that was the healing balm.

"Except the Lord build the house"
January 16, 1926

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