One morning, Hector proclaimed his intention of ascending the hills, in the
direction of the Indian camp. "I am tired of remaining shut up in this
dull place, where we can see nothing but this dead flat, bounded by those
melancholy pines in the distance that seem to shut us in." Little did
Hector know that beyond that dark ridge of pine hills lay the home of their
childhood, and but a few miles of forest intervened to hide it from their
sight. Had he known it how eagerly would his feet have pressed onward in
the direction of that dark barrier of evergreens!
Thus is it often in this life: we wander on, sad and perplexed, our path
beset with thorns and briars. We cannot see our way clear; doubts and
apprehensions assail us. We know not how near we are to the fulfilment of
our wishes: we see only the insurmountable barriers, the dark thickets and
thorns of our way; and we know not how near we are to our Father's home.
where he is waiting to welcome the wanderers of the flock back to the
everlasting home, the fold of the Good Shepherd.
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