"That first verse, 'It is good for a world in trouble,' is certainly a
most appropriate one for these times in France," I said aside to the
secretary.

"Yes," he replied; "if ever this pore ole worl' needed the sustainin'
power of the religion of the Christ, it does now; an' if ever this pore
ole worl' was in trouble, that time suttinly is right now," he added
with fervor.

And now I can never think of the world, nor of the folks back here at
home, nor of the millions of our boys over there that I do not hear the
sweet voices of that crowd of negroes singing reverently and fervently:

"It is good for a world in trouble;
It is good for a world in trouble;
It is good for a world in trouble;
And it's good enough for me."


Another Silhouette of Song that stands out against the background of
memory is that of a hymn that I heard in Doctor Charles Jefferson's
church just before I sailed for France. I was lonely. I walked into
that great city church a stranger, as thousands of boys who have sailed
from New York have done. I never remember to have been so unutterably
lonely and homesick. It was cold in the city, and I was alone. I
turned to a church. Thousands of boys have done the same, may the
mothers and fathers of America know, and they have found comfort. If
the parents of this great nation could know how well their boys are
guarded and cared for in New York City before they sail, they would
have a feeling of comfort.