of my soul: again I plunged prostrate at his feet. But this time my tears welled from a bliss, and not a pain, past bearing.
“Think you that your devotion did not touch the Infinite Mercy? The Motherhood of God, that you have worshiped in forms both human and divine, could never fail to answer your forsaken cry.”
Who was this simple saint, whose least request to the Universal Spirit met with sweet acquiescence? His role in the world was humble,
of my soul: again I plunged prostrate at his feet. But this time my tears welled from a bliss, and not a pain, past bearing.
“Think you that your devotion did not touch the Infinite Mercy? The Motherhood of God, that you have worshiped in forms both human and divine, could never fail to answer your forsaken cry.”
Who was this simple saint, whose least request to the Universal Spirit met with sweet acquiescence? His role in the world was humble,
