I
told him everything. The first day he saw I was greatly discouraged,
and told me the history of a young pear-tree against which he was
leaning, and which was full of beautiful fruit. He said that on a
stormy night it was broken by the wind, and trampled upon by some
stray cattle, and he scarcely thought it could live, for it was
prostrate on the ground, but he lifted it, and took care of it,
and gave nature a chance to restore it. You would think nature
was like a kind of mother, to hear him talk. Then he reasoned
that Jesus, the Author of nature, would do for me what nature had
done for the wounded tree, but that I must not expect too much at
first--that I must be receptive and willing to grow patiently as
the tree had done, in a new and better life. Thus the tree has
become to me an emblem of hope, and I trust a prophecy of my future,
although I do not expect ever to reach anything like the perfection
suggested by the pear-tree and its delicious fruit. The facts
that have impressed me most are that it was bruised, prostrate,
and ready to die, and now it is alive and useful. Old Mr. Eltinge
loves it, and likes to lean against it, as you will see.
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