She sat like one in a dream; yet the truth
seemed to flash upon her at once.
"How can I speak to God, who never knew Him? How can I ask Him to
forgive me?"
"You must pray to him."
"Pray! I don't know how to pray. I never said a prayer in my life.
Mother; can you teach me how to pray?"
"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Joe, hurrying forward. "Why should you trouble
yourself about such things? Mrs. Moodie, I desire you not to put
such thoughts into my daughter's head. We don't want to know
anything about Jesus Christ here."
"Oh, mother, don't speak so to the lady! Do Mrs. Moodie, tell me
more about God and my soul. I never knew until now that I had a
soul."
Deeply compassionating the ignorance of the poor girl, in spite of
the menaces of the heathen mother - for she was no better, but rather
worse, seeing that the heathen worships in ignorance a false God,
while this woman lived without acknowledging a God at all, and
therefore considered herself free from all moral restraint - I bid
Phoebe good-bye, and promised to bring my bible, and read to her the
next day.
The gratitude manifested by this sick girl was such a contrast to
the rudeness and brutality of the rest of the family, that I soon
felt a powerful interest in her fate.
