Part 33 (1/2)
”All--that--? Of what--Mr. 'Arry?” She seemed truly mystified.
”I mean those childish legends of the saints you often quote?”
Amalia laughed. ”You think I have learn them of the good sisters in my convent, and is no truth in them?”
”Why--I guess that's about it. Did your father believe them?”
”Maybe no. But my father was 'devoue'--very--but he had a very wide thought of G.o.d and man--a thought reaching far out--to--I find it very hard to explain. If but you understood the French, I could tell you--but for me, I have my father's faith and it makes me glad to play in my heart with these legends--as you call them.”
He gave her a quick, appealing glance, then turned his gaze away. ”Try to explain. Your English is beautiful.”
”If you eat your breakfast, then will I try.”
”Yes, yes, I will. You say he had faith reaching far out--to where--to what?”
”He said there would never be rest in all the universe until we find everywhere G.o.d,--living--creating--moving forever in the--the--all.”
She held out her hands and extended her arms in an encompa.s.sing movement indescribably full of grace.
”You mean he was a pantheist?”
”Oh, no, no. That is to you a horror, I see, but it was not that.”
She laughed again, so merrily that Harry laughed, too. But still he persisted, ”Amalia--never mind what your father thought; tell me your own faith.”
Then she grew grave, ”My faith is--just--G.o.d. In the all.
Seeing--feeling--knowing--with us--for us--never away--in the deep night of sorrow--understanding. In the far wilderness--hearing. In the terror and remorse of the heart--when we weep for sin--loving. It is only one thing in all the world to learn, and that is to learn all things, just to reach out the mind, and touch G.o.d--to find his love in the heart and so always live in the perfect music of G.o.d. That is the wonderful harmony--and melody--and growth--of each little soul--and of all peoples, all worlds,--Oh, it is the universe of love G.o.d gives to us.”
For a while they were silent, and Madam Manovska began to move about the cabin, setting the things in order. She did not seem to have taken any interest in their talk. Harry rose to go, but first he looked in Amalia's eyes.
”The perfect Music of G.o.d?” He said the words slowly and questioningly.
”You understand my meaning?”
”I can't say. Do you?”
She quickly s.n.a.t.c.hed up her violin which lay within reach of her arm.
”I can better show you.” She drew a long chord, then from it wandered into a melody, sweet and delicate; then she drew other chords, and on into other melodies, all related; then she began to talk again. ”It is only on two strings I am playing--for hear? the others are now souls out of the music of G.o.d--listen--” she drew her bow across the discordant strings. ”How that is terrible! So G.o.d creates great and beautiful laws--” she went back into the harmony and perfect melody, and played on, now changing to the discordant strain, and back, as she talked--”and gives to all people power to understand, but not through weakness--but through longing and searching with big earnestness of purpose, and much desire. Who has no care and desire for the music of G.o.d, strikes always those wrong notes, and all suffer as our ears suffer with the bad sounds. So it is, through long desiring, and living, always a little and a little more perceiving, reaching out the hand to touch in love our brothers and sisters on the earth,--always with patience learning to find in our own souls the note that strikes in harmony with the great thought of G.o.d--and thus we understand and live in the music of G.o.d. Ah, it is hard for me to say it--but it is as if our souls are given wings--wings--that reach--from the gold of the sun--even to the earth at our feet, and we float upon that great harmony of love like upon a wonderful upbearing sea, and never can we sink, and ever all is well--for we live in the thought of G.o.d.”
”Amalia--Amalia--How about sin, and the one who--kills--and the ones who hate--and the little children brought into the world in sin--”
Harry's voice trembled, and he bowed his head in his hands.
”Never is anything lost. They are the ones who have not yet learned--they have not found the key to G.o.d's music. Those who find must quickly help and give and teach the little children--the little children find so easily the key--but to all the strings making horrible discord on the earth--we dare not shut our ears and hide--so do the sweet, good sisters in the convent. They do their little to teach the little children, but it is always to shut their ears. But the Christ went out in the world, not with hands over his ears, but outreached to his brothers and sisters on the earth. But my father--my father! He turned away from the church, because he saw they had not found the true key to G.o.d's music--or I mean they kept it always hid, and covered with much--how shall I say--with much drapery--and golden coverings, that the truth--that is the key--was lost to sight. It was for this my father quarreled with--all that he thought not the truth.
He believed to set his people free both from the world's oppression and from their own ignorance, and give to them a truth uncovered. Oh, it set his old friends in great discord more than ever--for they could not make thus G.o.d's music. And so they rose up and threw him in prison, and all the terrible things came upon him--of the world. My mother must have been very able through love to drag him free from them, even if they did pursue. It was the conflict of discord he felt all his life, and now he is free.”
Suddenly the mother's deep tones sounded through the cabin with a finality that made them both start. ”Yes. Now he is free--and yet will he bring them to--know. We wait for him here. No more must he go to Poland. It is not the will of G.o.d.”
Still Harry was not satisfied. ”But if you think all these great thoughts--and you do--I can't see how you can quote those legends as if you thought them true.”
”I quote them, yes, because I love them, and their poetry. Through all beauty--all sweetness--all strength--G.o.d brings to us his thought.