Paula the Waldensian - Eva Lecomte

"I think," said my father slowly in a low voice as if talking to himself, "I
think you"--and he paused a moment--"What would you say if you were to
go to church with Celestina on Sundays?"
"Oh, dear uncle, could I really go?" Paula jumped to her feet excitedly.
"Yes, I think I'll let you go--and"--again he hesitated a bit--"if Teresa,
Rosa and Lisita wish to, they may go along too."
"And you, dear uncle, will you not come with us?" questioned Paula, as
she looked into the sad, stern face that had softened considerably of late.
"We shall see, we shall see. But you'd better not count on me. My, oh,
me! Just see! Those roses have all come back again!"
"Well, but you don't know how happy you've made me!" said Paula as
she fairly danced out of the house with me to tell the news to Celestina.
"Well," said Celestina, "all I can say is that the Lord heard my prayers
and yours, dear Paula. It's the great weapon of the weak and needy, and in
fact can be the power to serve all and anyone who will surrender themselves
and all they are into the hands of the Saviour."
We had seated ourselves near the door of her little cottage. Something in
the deep tones of the old lady's voice seemed to search my very heart. We
always enjoyed listening to this old saint who, like Enoch and Noah, walked
with God. We seemed to be drawn closer to God in her humble little cottage
than in any other place.
"You see," she continued, "I'm old and quite feeble, and besides I'm
poor, and can't do very much for other folks; but there's one thing I can do,
and that is, pray. And I do pray for everybody--and especially for you and
192