The girl looked up at him with great, wondering eyes. "But, Padre," she protested, "were you not thinking of things that are not true when I came in?" "No--I was--I was thinking of the future--of--well, _chiquita_, I was thinking of something that might happen some day, that is all." He stumbled through it with difficulty, for he knew he must not lie to the child. Would she ever trust him again if he did? "And, Padre, were you afraid?" "Afraid? Yes, _chiquita_, I was." He hung his head. Carmen looked at him reproachfully. "Then, Padre, I was right--for, if you loved God, you would trust Him--and then you couldn't be afraid of anything--could you? People who love Him are not afraid." He turned his head away. "Ah, child," he murmured, "you will find that out in the world people don't love God in this day and generation. At least they don't love Him that way." "They don't love Him enough to trust him?" she asked wistfully. "No." He shook his head sadly. "Nobody trusts Him, not even the preachers themselves. When things happen, they rush for a doctor, or some other human being to help them out of their difficulty. They don't turn to Him any more. They seldom speak His name." "Have--they--forgotten Him?" she asked slowly, her voice sinking to a whisper. "Absolutely!" He again buried his head in his hands. The child stood in silence for some moments. Then: "What made them forget Him, Padre?" "I guess, _chiquita_, they turned from Him because He didn't answer their prayers. I used to pray to Him, too. I prayed hours at a time. But nothing seemed to come of it. And so I stopped." He spoke bitterly. "You prayed! You mean--" "I asked Him for things--to help me out of trouble--I asked Him to give me--" "Why, Padre! Why--that's the very reason!" He looked up at her blankly. "What is the very reason? What are you trying to tell me, child?" "Why, He is everywhere, and He is right here all the time. And so there couldn't be any real trouble for Him to help you out of; and He couldn't give you anything, for He has already done that, long ago. We are in Him, don't you know? Just like the little fishes in the lake. And so when you asked Him for things it showed that you didn't believe He had already given them to you. And--you know what you said last night about thinking, and that when we think things, we see them? Well, He has given you everything; but you thought He hadn't, and so you saw it that way--isn't it so?" She paused for breath. She had talked rapidly and with animation. But before he could reply she resumed: "Padre dear, you know you told me that Jesus was the best man that ever lived, and that it was because he never had a bad thought--isn't that so?" "Yes," he murmured. "Well, did he pray--did he ask God for things?" "Of course he did, child!" the priest exclaimed. "He always asked Him for things. Why, he was always praying--the New Testament is full of it!"