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A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
168
Our
minister
was
a
scholarly
man,
of
refined
tastes
and
a
sensitive
organization,
fervently
spiritual,
and
earnestly
devoted
to
his
work.
It
was
all
education
to
grow
up
under
his
influence.
I
shall
never
forget
the
effect
left
by
the
tones
of
his
voice
when
he
first
spoke
to
me,
a
child
of
ten
years,
at
a
neighborhood
prayer-meeting
in
my
mother's
sitting-room.
He
had
been
inviting
his
listeners
to
the
friendship
of
Christ,
and
turning
to
my
little
sister
and
me,
he
said,--
"And
these
little
children,
too;
won't
they
come?"
The
words,
and
his
manner
of
saving
them,
brought
the
tears
to
my
eyes.
Once
only
before,
far
back
in
my
earlier
childhood--I
have
already
mentioned
the
incident--had
I
heard
that
Name
spoken
so
tenderly
and
familiarly,
yet
so
reverently.
It
was
as
if
he
had
been
gazing
into
the
face
of
an
invisible
Friend,
and
bad
just
turned
from
Him
to
look
into
ours,
while
he
gave
us
his
message,
that
He
loved
us.
In
that
moment
I
again
caught
a
glimpse
of
One
whom
I
had
always
known,
but
had
often
forgotten,--One
who
claimed
me
as
his
Father's
child,
and
would
never
let
me
go.
It
was
a
real
Face
that
I
saw,
a
real
Voice
that
I
heard,
a
real
Person
who
was
calling
me.
I
could
not
mistake
the
Presence
that
had
so
often
drawn
near
me
and
shone
with
sunlike
eyes
into
my
soul.
The
words,
"Lord,
lift
Thou
up
the
light
of
thy
countenance
upon
us!"
had
always
given
me
the
feeling
that
a
beautiful
sunrise
does.
It
is
indeed
a
sunrise
text,
for
is
not
He
the
Light
of
the
World?
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