"THE MESSAGE of a tender soul," said my friend Annabel Lee, "is a thing that will go far, oh, so far, and lose nothing of itself.
"When all things in the world are counted the beautiful things are in the greatest numbers. And when all the things in the world are counted the message of a tender soul counts greatly more than many.
"A tender soul receives back no gratitude for its message, and looks for no gratitude, and does not know what gratitude means. And the tenderness of the message is all unmade and all unknown, but is felt for long, long years.
"The message of a tender soul goes over the sea into the lonesomeness of the night and nothing stops it on the way, for all know what it is and bid it godspeed. And it goes down and around a mountain to a house where there is woe, and if before it came that house had turned away charity and love and friendship and good-will and peace, and had sent a curse after them all, still it opens wide its doors for the message of a tender soul. For its coming is not heralded, and the soul that sends it does not even know its tenderness, and the hearts of all in that house where there is woe—they are deeply, unknowingly comforted. And it goes upon the barrenness of a countryside where there is not one green thing growing, and the barrenness is then more than paradise, had paradise no such message. And it goes where lovely flowers grow in thousands, where sparkling water mingles with sparkling water and quenches thirst, where the long gray moss hangs from birch-trees, where pale clouds float—and itself is more beautiful than all these. Have you felt all those tender things that go down into the depths? They bring comfort, but also they bring tears into the eyes and pain into the heart. The message of a tender soul—what does it bring but ineffable comfort to the heart? You do not feel that it is a message, you do not feel it to be a divinely beautiful thing. There are no sudden salt tears. Only the message is there—only it does that for which it is sent. Have you gone out and done all the work that you could do, and done it faithfully and asked no reward—and have you come back and cried out in bitterness of spirit? Then, it may be, came wondrously beautiful things from over the way to tell you, Take heart. But there was no 'take heart' for you. Then it may be there came from that way which you were not looking, the message of a tender soul. Then there was comfort, and with no tears of pain and no bitter, bitter tears of joy. There was deep comfort so that you could go out and work again and for no reward. There is work that has no reward. For those that work for no reward there can be no comfort in all the vastness except the message of a tender soul. Have you gone out and done all the evil you could do, in cruel ways, and taken away faith in some one from some one—and have come back and suffered more than any of them? Then it may be there came the message of a tender soul—and many, many other things faded from your heart. And still there were no tears. And if there is too much for you in living, and if the countless things near and far in the world crowd over you and fill you with horrible fear, then, if the message of a tender soul comes, one by one they step backward, and in your heart is comfort for the long, long years.
"There have been those that have had happiness that was more than the world, but in the end there was no comfort, for their happiness brought with it tears of joy and emotion that had limitless source.
"If you have wanted happiness and have hungered and thirsted, after there came the message of a tender soul, you were content with a branch from a green pine-tree.
"If you have felt a thousand tender things and have drunk from a thousand cups and then have been about to write it in black lettering that all, all have failed you—if then there came the message of a tender soul, you have written instead that nothing has failed you, and you have turned back your footsteps and have tried it all again.
"If for you and me to-day there should come over frozen hills and green meadows from a far country the message of a tender soul, should we shiver when it is dark and should we dread the coming of the years, and should we consider what would bring weariness and what would bring rest, and should we measure and contemplate? But no. For the message of a tender soul is a message from one that has found the quiet and is absolutely at peace, and has gone so far toward the stars and so far and wide over the green earth that she has indeed reached the truth, and her soul gives of its tenderness without thinking, and without knowing, and all in the dark.
"And when we should feel the message, all without knowing, there would come again that long-since faith, and that fullness of life, and that sense of realness, and the shining of the sun would be of new meaning.
"It may be," said my friend Annabel Lee, "that we will have to go still farther into the wilderness before the message comes, and it may be also that it will not come for many years.
"But it is in all ways comforting to know there is such a thing."
More than I considered the message that might come, I considered the voice with no hardness but with softness, and the lily face of my friend Annabel Lee.