"Oh, my God, my God," murmured poor Teresa. "If you can have pity on a poor
sinful woman like me, that has forgotten Thee for so many years, be pleased
to pardon me, and change my poor wicked heart, in the name of Thy Son,
Jesus Christ, Amen."

* * * * *

For a good while after that, Teresa made no allusion whatever to what had
transpired in our little bedroom on that first Sunday after Paula's
arrival; but we noticed a great change in her conduct She did not work
harder--that would have been impossible--neither was she more unselfish,
for a more unselfish person than our dear old servant would have been hard
to find. But the thing we began to notice was that she was more patient and
tender in her dealings with us children, and more charitable toward the
great number of our poor neighbors, who would come to the door from time to
time to "borrow" food--these poor, miserable neighbors whom she had
despised on account of their laziness and untidiness. Beside all this, we
saw no more of her days of bad humor and fretfulness. For instance, she
treated our father with much more respect and listened without argument or
impatience when, at times, he was unjust in his criticism of the house
arrangements. Then we noticed also that all her little lies with which she
tried to frighten us at times had completely disappeared.

In the cottages of our poor neighbors, there had existed an atmosphere of
discouragement and desperation, brought on of course, through poverty and
drink, and it was here that our good Teresa began to be known as a
veritable friend. As she passed from door to door giving a word of
encouragement here, or taking the burden temporarily from the shoulders of
a poor tired mother there, we began to notice the under-current of a happy