Paula the Waldensian - Eva Lecomte

her to sew and to knit.
"What are you going to do in the future if you don't know how to do
these things?"
"I'm sure I don't know," Paula would say sadly, and would take up the
work once more with such sweet resignation that Teresa, moved with
compassion, would take the work from her hands saying--"There! There!
Run outdoors now for a bit of fresh air."
Then away Paula would go into the garden or under the trees that lined
the village street. Soon she was back with such a happy smile that Teresa
forgave her completely.
Once however Teresa lost all patience with her, exclaiming, as she saw
the strange ragged ends she had left in her sewing, "Drop that work, and go
where you please; but remember this, never will you be called a 'Dorcas.'
Never will you be able to sew and provide garments for the poor. It's not
enough to tell them you love them, you must show it by your works--and the
best way to do that would be to learn to be useful to them."
Paula sat back stiff and straight in consternation. "Oh, Teresa, I never,
never thought of that!" she said in a tone of greatest remorse, "Oh, please let
me go on! I will try to do better!"
But Teresa had taken away the work, and was not inclined to be easily
persuaded. "No, not now! Another time perhaps you may show what you can
do."
Paula therefore had to submit; but that was the last time that Teresa had
any reason to complain. That afternoon Paula had gone straight to her room,
and I followed soon after to comfort her, but I found her kneeling by her
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