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remembered the days and nights he used to spend in the fields with the
sheep； when he was just a shepherd boy； and he thought to himself that
God had taken care of him just as carefully as he used to care for the little
lambs。 It is a beautiful song； I wish we knew the music that David made
for it； but we only know his words。 I will tell it to you now； and then you
may learn it； to say for yourselves。
The Lord is my shepherd； I shall not want。
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures； he leadeth me beside the
still waters。
He restoreth my soul； he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for
his name's sake。
Yea； though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death； I will
fear no evil； for thou art with me； thy rod and thy staff they comfort me。
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies：
thou anointest my head with oil； my cup runneth over。
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life； and
I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever。
THE HIDDEN SERVANTS＇1＇
＇1＇ Adapted； with quotations； from the poem in The Hidden Servants；
by Francesca Alexander （Little； Brown & Co。）。
This is a legend about a hermit who lived long ago。 He lived high up
on the mountain… side in a tiny cave； his food was roots and acorns； a bit
of bread given by a peasant； or a cheese brought by a woman who wanted
his prayers； his work was praying； and thinking about God。 For forty years
he lived so； preaching to the people； praying for them； comforting them in
trouble； and； most of all； worshiping in his heart。 There was just one thing
he cared about： it was to make his soul so pure and perfect that it could be
one of the stones in God's great Temple of Heaven。
One day； after the forty years； he had a great longing to know how far
along he had got with his work；how it looked to the Heavenly Father。
And he prayed that he might be shown a man
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〃Whose soul in the heavenly grace had grown To the selfsame
measure as his own； Whose treasure on the celestial shore Could neither
be less than his nor more。〃
As he looked up from his prayer； a white…robed angel stood in the
path before him。 The hermit bowed before the messenger with great
gladness； for he knew that his wish was answered。 〃Go to the nearest
town；〃 the angel said； 〃and there； in the public square； you will find a
mountebank （a clown） making the people laugh for money。 He is the man
you seek； his soul has grown to the selfsame stature as your own； his
treasure on the celestial shore is neither less than yours nor more。〃
When the angel had faded from sight； the hermit bowed his head again；
but this time with great sorrow and fear。 Had his forty years of prayer been
a terrible mistake； and was his soul indeed like a clown； fooling in the
market…place？ He knew not what to think。 Almost he hoped he should not
find the man； and could believe that he had dreamed the angel vision。 But
when he came； after a long； toilful walk； to the village； and the square； alas！
there was the clown； doing his silly tricks for the crowd。
The hermit stood and looked at him with terror and sadness； for he felt
that he was looking at his own soul。 The face he saw was thin and tired；
and though it kept a smile or a grin for the people； it seemed very sad to
the hermit。 Soon the man felt the hermit's eyes； he could not go on with
his tricks。 And when he had stopped and the crowd had left； the hermit
went and drew the man aside to a place where they could rest； for he
wanted more than anything else on earth to know what the man's soul was
like； because what it was； his was。
So； after a little； he asked the clown； very gently； what his life was；
what it had been。 And the clown answered； very sadly； that it was just as it
looked；a life of foolish tricks； for that was the only way of earning his
bread that he knew。
〃But have you never been anything different？〃 asked the hermit；
painfully。
The clown's head sank in his hands。 〃Yes； holy father；〃 he said； 〃I have
been something else。 I was a thief！ I once belonged to the wickedest band
of mountain robbers that ever tormented the land； and I was as wicked as
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the worst。〃
Alas！ The hermit felt that his heart was breaking。 Was this how he
looked to the Heavenly Father；like a thief； a cruel mountain robber？ He
could hardly speak； and the tears streamed from his old eyes； but he
gathered strength to ask one more question。 〃I beg you；〃 he said； 〃if you
have ever done a single good deed in your life； remember it now； and tell
it to me；〃 for he thought that even one good deed would save him from
utter despair。
〃Yes； one；〃 the clown said； 〃but it was so small； it is not worth telling；
my life has been worthless。〃
〃Tell me that one！〃 pleaded the hermit。
〃Once；〃 said the man； 〃our band broke into a convent garden and stole
away one of the nuns； to sell as a slave or to keep for a ransom。 We
dragged her with us over the rough； long way to our mountain camp； and
set a guard over her for the night。 The poor thing prayed to us so piteously
to let her go！ And as she begged； she looked from one hard face to another
with trusting； imploring eyes； as if she could not believe men could be
really bad。 Father； when her eyes met mine something pierced my heart！
Pity and shame leaped up； for the first time； within me。 But I made my
face as hard and cruel as the rest； and she turned away； hopeless。
〃When all was dark and still； I stole like a cat to where she lay bound。
I put my hand on her wrist and whispered； ‘Trust me； and I will take you
safely home。' I cut her bonds with my knife； and she looked at me to show
that she trusted。 Father； by terrible ways that I knew； hidden from the
others； I took her safe to the convent gate。 She knocked； they opened； and
she slipped inside。 And； as she left me； she turned and said； ‘God will
remember。'
〃That was all。 I could not go back to the old bad life； and I had never
learned an honest way to earn my bread。 So I became a clown； and must
be a clown until I die。〃
〃No！ no！ my son；〃 cried the hermit； and now his tears were tears of joy。
〃God has remembered； your soul is in his sight even as mine； who have
prayed and preached for forty years。 Your treasure waits for you on the
heavenly shore just as mine does。〃
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〃As YOURS？ Father； you mock me！〃 said the clown。
But when the hermit told him the story of his prayer and the angel's
answer； the poor clown was transfigured with joy； for he knew that his sins
were forgiven。 And when the hermit went home to his mountain； the
clown went with him。 He； too； became a hermit； and spent his time in
praise and prayer。
Together they lived； and worked； and helped the poor。 And when； after
two years； the man who had been a clown died； the hermit felt that he had
lost a brother holier than himself。
For ten years more the hermit lived in his mountain hut； thinking
always of God； fasting and praying； and doing no least thing that was
wrong。 Then； one day； the wish once more came； to know how his work
was growing； and once more he prayed that he might see a being
〃Whose soul in the heavenly grace had grown To the selfsame
measure as his own； Whose treasure on the celestial shore Could neither
be less than his nor more。〃
Once more his prayer was answered。 The angel came to him； and told
him to go to a certain village on the other side of the mountain； and to a
small farm in it； where two women lived。 In them he should find two souls
like his own； in God's sight。
When the hermit came to the door of the little farm； the two women
who lived there were overjoyed to see him