Poem May 17, 1952 Issue

THE SHUNAMMITE WOMAN

Kathryn Paulson

All that her heart held dear seemed gone—
The little lad lay still;
And on the quiet room there dropped
A sudden, bitter chill.

With courage born of love's deep trust
She rose on urgent feet
And, tearless, sought the solace of
The prophet's calm retreat.

She could not frame in words her hope,
Her faith she could not tell;
To every question put to her
She answered, "It is well."

How tender were Elisha's words,
How free of fear or dread;
How well he knew God's presence there—
"Take up thy son," he said.

The little lad was strong and free!
O Life, wherein we dwell,
Help us to see that we may know
And prove that all is well.

Kathryn Paulson

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE

Editorial

SUPERSTITION GIVES PLACE TO UNDERSTANDING

May 17, 1952

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