September 8

“Know well, my soul, God’s hand controls
Whate’er thou fearest;
Round him in calmest music rolls
Whate’er thou hearest.

“What to thee is shadow, to Him is day,
And the end He knoweth,
And not on a blind and aimless way
The spirit goeth.”

WHITTIER

“We are all of us like the weavers of the Gobelins, who, following out the pattern of a well-known artist, endeavour to match the threads of divers colours on the wrong side of the woof, and do not see the result of their labours. It is only when the texture is complete that they can admire at their ease those lovely flowers and figures, those splendid pictures, worthy of the palaces of kings. So it is with us. We work, we suffer, and we see neither the end nor the fruit. But God sees it, and when He releases us from our task, He will disclose to our wandering gaze what He, the great artist, everywhere present and invisible, has woven out of those toils that now seem so sterile, and He will then deign to hang up, in his palace of gold, the flimsy web that we have spun.”

FREDERIC OZONAN