Chicago (Ill.) -- History -- To 1875 -- Fiction; Fires -- Fiction; Great Fire, Chicago, Ill., 1871 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
She uttered these words sitting on the sands with multitudes of others,
her face (from which Dennis had washed the dust and smoke) looking in
the glare so wan and white that he feared, with a sickening dread,
that through exposure, terror, or some of the many dangers by which
they were surrounded, she might pass into the future world with all
her unbelief and spiritual darkness. He yearned over her with a
solicitude and pity that he could not express. She seemed so
near--indeed he could feel her form tremble, as she kneeled beside
her, and supported her by his arm--and yet, in view of her faithless
state, how widely were they separated! Should any one of the many
perils about them quench the little candle of her life, which even now
flickered faintly, where in the wide universe could he hope to meet
her again? God can no doubt console His children and make up to them
every loss, but the passionate heart, with its intense human love,
clings to its idol none the less. Dennis saw that the fire would
probably hem them in on the beach for the remainder of the night and
the following day. He determined therefore in every way possible to
beguile the weary, perilous hours, and, if she would permit it, to
lead her thoughts heavenward. Hence arose from time to time
conversations, to which, with joy, he found Christine no longer averse.
Indeed, she often introduced them.
Chafing her hands, he said in accents of the deepest sympathy, "How
I pity you, Miss Ludolph! It must indeed be terrible to possess your
thoughtful mind, to realize these scenes so keenly, and yet have no
faith in a Divine Friend. I cannot explain to you the mystery of
evil--why it came, or why it exists. Who can? I am but one of God's
little children, and only know with certainty that my Heavenly Father
loves and will take care of me."
"How do you know it?" she asked, eagerly.
"In several ways. Mainly because I feel it."
"It all seems so vague and unreal," she sighed, dreamily. "There is
nothing certain, assured. There is no test by which I can at once know
the truth."
"That does not prevent the truth from existing. That some are blind
is no proof that color does not exist."
"But how can you be sure there is a God? You never saw Him."
"I do not see the heat that scorches us, but I feel it, and know it
exists."
"But I feel the heat the same as yourself, and I have no consciousness
of a Divine Being."
"That does not take away my consciousness that He is my Saviour and
Friend. As yet you are spiritually dead. If you were physically dead,
you would not feel the heat of this fire."
"Oh, it is all mystery--darkness," she cried, piteously.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account