She Gave Her God Her Best
AN officer in the army some years ago witnessed this incident in India. He was walking along the banks of the Ganges, the sacred river, when he heard behind him a moan of agony. He turned round, and there before him was a Hindu mother, with two children. One was a lovely boy; the other a puny, weak, miserable little girl. He asked what was the matter. The answer of the poor woman was, “The gods are angry with me.” “Why?” he said. “Because they have given me this miserable little girl.” He replied, “But you have that boy.” All she would say was, “The gods are angry.” He passed on, not knowing what the woman meant. Presently he returned. There was the same woman, the same little girl. But where was the boy?—Thrown into the Ganges! She had given the fruit of her body for the sin of her soul. He turned to her in astonishment, and said, “Surely if you had to give one, you would have given the girl?” Listen to her answer: “Sahib, do you think I would give my god anything but the best?” Her religion broke her heart. Ours binds up the broken-hearted, comforts those that mourn, wipes tears from off all faces. Yet which of us has given the best?—C. M. S. Intelligencer.