isn’t old enough to understand that God doesn’t answer our prayers just as we hope—and doesn’t make bargains with us when we yield something we love up to Him.”
September 24th, 1918
“I have been kneeling at my window in the moonshine for a long time, just thanking God over and over again. The joy of last night and today has been so great that it seemed half pain—as if our hearts weren’t big enough to hold it.
“Last night I was sitting here in my room at eleven o'clock, writing a letter to Shirley. Everyone else was in bed, except father, who was out. I heard the telephone ring and I ran out to the hall to answer it, before it should waken mother. It was long-distance calling, and when I answered it said ‘This is the telegraph Company’s office in Charlottetown. There is an overseas cable for Dr. Blythe.’
“I thought of Shirley—my heart stood still—and then I heard him saying, ‘It’s from Holland.’
“The message was
“‘Just arrived. Escaped from Germany. Quite well. Writing.
‘James Blythe.’
“I didn’t faint or fall or scream. I didn’t feel glad or surprised. I didn’t feel anything. I felt numb, just as I did when I heard Walter had enlisted. I hung up the receiver and turned round. Mother was standing in her doorway. She wore her old rose kimono, and her hair was hanging down her back in a
