A Country Doctor and Selected Stories and SketchesJewett, Sarah Orne
General
A Country Doctor and Selected Stories and Sketches
Jewett, Sarah Orne
Maine -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Nan had really grown into a great liking for George Gerry. She often
thought it would have been very good to have such a brother. But more
than one person in the audience thought they had never seen a braver
young couple; and the few elderly persons of discretion who had gone
to the play felt their hearts thrill with sudden sympathy as our
friends went far down the room to their seats. Miss Fraley was almost
girlish herself, and looked so pleased and bright that everybody who
cared anything about her smiled when they caught sight of her, she was
so prim and neat; it was impossible for her, under any circumstances,
to look anything but discreet and quaint; but as for Nan, she was
beautiful with youth and health; as simply dressed as Miss Eunice, but
with the gayety of a flower,--some slender, wild thing, that has
sprung up fearlessly under the great sky, with only the sunshine and
the wind and summer rain to teach it, and help it fulfill its
destiny,--a flower that has grown with no painful effort of its own,
but because God made it and kept it; that has bloomed because it has
come in the course of its growth to the right time. And Miss Eunice,
like a hindered little house-plant, took a long breath of delight as
she sat close by her kind young friend, and felt as if somebody had
set her roots free from their familiar prison.
To let God make us, instead of painfully trying to make ourselves; to
follow the path that his love shows us, instead of through conceit or
cowardice or mockery choosing another; to trust Him for our strength
and fitness as the flowers do, simply giving ourselves back to Him in
grateful service,--this is to keep the laws that give us the freedom
of the city in which there is no longer any night of bewilderment or
ignorance or uncertainty. So the woman who had lived a life of
bondage, whose hardest task-master was herself, and the woman who had
been both taught and inspired to hold fast her freedom, sat side by
side: the one life having been blighted because it lacked its mate,
and was but half a life in itself; while the other, fearing to give
half its royalty or to share its bounty, was being tempted to cripple
itself, and to lose its strait and narrow way where God had left no
room for another.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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