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222
A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
169
And
peaceful
sunshine
seemed
pouring
in
at
the
windows
of
my
life
on
the
day
when
I
stood
in
the
aisle
before
the
pulpit
with
a
group,
who,
though
young,
were
all
much
older
than
myself,
and
took
with
them
the
vows
that
bound
us
to
his
service.
Of
what
was
then
said
and
read
I
scarcely
remember
more
than
the
words
of
heavenly
welcome
in
the
Epistle,
"Now
therefore
ye
are
no
more
strangers
and
foreigners."
It
was
like
coming
home,
like
stepping
a
little
farther
beyond
the
threshold
in
at
the
open
door
of
our
Father's
house.
Perhaps
I
was
too
young
to
assume
those
vows.
Had
I
deferred
it
a
few
years
there
would
have
been
serious
intellectual
hindrances.
But
it
was
not
the
Articles
of
Faith
I
was
thinking
of,
although
there
was
a
long
list
of
them,
to
which
we
all
bowed
assent,
as
was
the
custom.
It
was
the
homecoming
to
the
"house
not
made
with
hands,"
the
gladness
of
signifying
that
I
belonged
to
God's
spiritual
family,
and
was
being
drawn
closer
to
his
heart,
with
whom
none
of
us
are
held
as
"strangers
and
foreigners."
I
felt
that
I
was
taking
up
again
the
clue
which
had
been
put
into
my
childish
hand
at
baptism,
and
was
being
led
on
by
it
into
the
unfolding
mysteries
of
life.
Should
I
ever
let
it
slip
from
me,
and
lose
the
way
to
the
"many
mansions"
that
now
seemed
so
open
and
so
near?
I
could
not
think
so.
It
is
well
that
we
cannot
foresee
our
falterings
and
failures.
At
least
I
could
never
forget
that
I
had
once
felt
my
own
and
other
lives
bound
together
with
the
Eternal
Life
by
an
invisible
thread.
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