She  is  my  sister,  if  I  am  a  man,  she  is  a  child  born  in
His  likeness,  and  can  I  leave  her  alone  in  her  sin,  ignorant
and  blind?  If  I  have  wisdom  and  light  will  they  remain  if
unused?  Am  I  better  than  she  if  I  pass  by  on  the  other  side?
I,  born  in  purity  and  bred  like  a  human  being,  have  still
cursed  God  in  the  insanity  of  grief;  I,  strong,  and  having  had
converse  with  God,  have  still  known  the  time  when  daily  for
years  I  heve  prayed  for  death,  and  all  but  laid  down  the  bur
den  of  life.  She,  a  woman,  weak  and  alone,  what  know  I  of
her  birth  and  life?  Dare  I  condemn  her?  Am  I  God?

She  lays  a  hand  on  my  arm  and  whispers,  "Help  me:
I  am  starving."

I  take  her  hand  in  mine  and  say,  "My  unknown  sister,
come  with  me.  My  need  would  be  as  great  as  yours  if  I  did
not  help  you.  Come."

She  looks  doubtful  at  first,  but  finally  gives  me  her  arm
and  walks  by  my  side.
There  is  a  woman  I  know  who  can  give  her  bread,  and
bread.  To  her  we  will  go,  and  perhaps  in  the  years  to  come
this  poor  animal  will  learn  a  human  being's  capacity  for
communion  with  God,  her  Father  and  Mother.
LOST.
The  room  is  darkened,  and  the  hush  of  a  Mighty  Spirit,
the  Spirit  of  the  Future,  envelopes  the  room,  seeming  to  rise
from  the  silent  form  on  the  bed,  the  form  of  a  woman.
