Everychild : $b A story which the old may interpret to the young and which the young may interpret to the oldDodge, Louis
Science
Everychild : $b A story which the old may interpret to the young and which the young may interpret to the old
Dodge, Louis
Fairy tales; Fantasy literature
He opened his eyes very wide. How could she know what all the other
children had dreamed, since it did not appear that they had told her of
their dreams? But he continued: "They seemed a little sad," he said.
"My mother's eyes were troubled, and my father shook his head."
"Yes, Everychild?"
"And I wondered if I might not see them again, really. It would be
good to see them again; and you know I have come so far . . ."
The Masked Lady replied: "Nothing delights me so much as to have
children and their parents find each other. That is my highest
dream--to bring together the parents and children who have lost each
other."
"And shall I find them?"
"I think you are on the way even now to find them--perhaps sooner than
you dare to hope."
"If I could find them now," continued Everychild, "I think I could
willingly give up my search for--for the truth. It seemed a wonderful
thing to seek for when I began, but I am not anxious to do so any more."
There was a new note in her voice as she replied, "Truth is very close
to those who still seek, but who have ceased to be anxious."
He did not know why the words should have thrilled him so. If he could
find the truth, after all, and still have his parents again! He
permitted his eyes to rest on the Masked Lady's rather forbidding face.
And then he began impulsively--"Dear lady! . . ."
"Yes, Everychild?" she returned gently.
He sought eagerly for the right words. "I did not know it myself for a
long time," he said, "But I think I know now . . ."
"I am waiting, Everychild!"
His voice almost failed him. "There was such a long time that I
thought I feared you a little," he continued, "--when it seemed better
to stand quite apart from you and look at you from a distance. But
you've been so good a friend that now at last . . ."
"At last, Everychild?"
He timidly sought her hand; and having found it he stood with downcast
eyes. "At last I know I--I love you!"
Still standing with downcast eyes he could not know how radiantly she
appeared before him. He could not see how the mask fell from her face
at last. The Masked Lady no more, but Truth herself in all her glory!
She cried out triumphantly, "Lift up your eyes, Everychild, and look at
me!"
He lifted his eyes slowly, gaining courage little by little. And when
he looked upon her an expression of amazement and swiftly dawning
delight was in his eyes.
"You are--oh, it is you!" he cried, fearing even yet to name her.
"It is I," she said.
And he was not fearful of her now. Truth at last--and yet she was one
who had been near him a long time and had often aided him.
"But you are beautiful!" he cried at last in wonder and delight.
"I am always beautiful to those who love me," she said.
"But oh, dear lady," he cried, "could you not have helped me to know
you in the beginning?"
"Ah," she replied, "each soul must find me for itself."
Then she put her arm about him and comforted him for long days and
nights of wandering.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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