"When times were hard with us sixty-odd years ago--and they were harder than you know about even in these days--Father would gather his family around him of an evening and say, 'Let us pray.'
"And when we had had a short season of communion with God through which we gained new strength and courage, Mother would say, 'Now let us play.' Then would follow an hour of such active games as blindman's buff, and puss wants a corner, and later such quieter games as tic-tac-toe and old mill. Sometimes other families joined us and before they started for home we would make a feast of pop corn.
"So, playing and playing, we got a spiritual and mental refreshment that made the trials of the morrow seem much easier to face. Seems like to me that this generation of today might get something of value out of praying and playing just as we did sixty-odd years ago."
Never--once--since the world began
Has the sun ever once stopped shining;
His face very often we could not see,
And we grumbled at His inconstancy;
But the clouds were really to blame, not He,
For, behind them, He was shining.
And so--behind life's darkest clouds,
God's love is always shining,
We veil it at times with our faithless fears,
And darken our sight with our foolish tears,
But in time the atmosphere always clears,
For His love is always shining.
Dear Editor: Our little six-year-old had been getting perfect spelling lessons for some time. One day his paper was marked "Good+." This grade was nothing to worry about, but we questioned him as to his lower grade.
"It must be the depression, Mother," he said. "It does so many funny things."--Mrs. R. L. W., Iowa