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Many years ago, when our grandmothers were girls, they devoted their spare moments to the making of bookmarkers; and on the marker, in colored silk, they embroidered the letters GOD IS LOVE. Dr. Handley Moule, Bishop of Durham, made effective use of such a bookmarker when he visited West Stanley immediately after the terrible colliery disaster there.
The words on the perforated bookmarker represent the best answer that human speech has ever given to the question. God is God is what? Rodney Steele met again the girl ripened now into the full glory of womanhood from whom he had been so cruelly separated. He felt that it was too late to right the earlier wrong; and, in any case, his life was too embittered to offer her now.
He had begged his mother to give him something to color, and she had pricked out those very words on a card and asked him to paint them for her. God! Love! Love! God! God is Love! So said the bookmarker; but, he reflected sadly, love had failed him long ago, and of God he had no knowledge at all.
He motored up to the scene of the catastrophe and addressed the crowd at the pit's mouth. Many of those present were the relatives of the entombed miners. 'It is very difficult, he said, 'for us to understand why God should let such an awful disaster happen, but we know Him, and trust Him, and all will be right. I have at home, the Bishop continued, 'an old bookmarker given me by my mother.
If, as I suppose, you refer to the 'Pont de Lodi, that is a totally different work of art." "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." "And I don't intend that you shall." He cut a small strip of braid from his coat, inserted it for a bookmarker, and began to fold away the excised pages. "That's why I am keeping these back for my own perusal, and perhaps Corporal Zeally's." "Do you know him?"
Some day we shall see it from another standpoint, and shall understand. This all happened many years ago; but quite recently some who were present declared that they never forgot the story of the bookmarker and the comfort that it brought.
When he sank back exhausted, we were shocked, for we thought that he would give up the ghost before we had time to comfort him and ease his last hour. 'Let us pray for him, whispered the locksmith. We knelt down; with trembling hands I pulled out the book; it opened of itself where a bookmarker had been placed at the fifteenth chapter of the Gospel of St. John.
Jake's marriage 'lines, a photograph of her husband in military uniform, some pressed flowers and a perforated bookmarker! And on the bookmarker, in pink silk, were embroidered the words: GOD IS LOVE. It reminded him of those far-off days in which, as a little boy, he had delighted in the possession of his first box of paints.
Thank goodness to-day is a holiday, and we can't go tobogganing because Dora has a chill!!! I got the bookmarker on the 4th, worked at it all day and up till midnight, and yesterday I got up at half past 5, went on working the whole morning, and at 2 o'clock we took our mementoes to the house. Though we should have liked to give them to her ourselves, we didn't, but only gave them to the maid.
It was a bookmarker of exactly the same kind, and bearing precisely the same inscription, that brought the fragrance of roses into the dusty heart of Rodney Steele. Sitting alone in his Harley Street flat, he found himself turning over the pages of a Bible that belonged to Mrs. Jake, his housekeeper. Among those pages he found Mrs.
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