A Helping Word To One In Trouble

Blessed Are They Who Know How To Shine On One's Gloom With Their Cheer.

The Sun Does Not Shine For A Few Trees, And Flowers, But For The Wide World's Joy. The Lonely Pine On The Mountain-top Waves Its Sombre Boughs And Cries, 'thou Art My Sun.' And The Little Meadow Violet Lifts Its Cup Of Blue, And Whispers With Its Perfumed Breath, 'thou Art My Sun.' And The Grain In A Thousand Fields Rustles In The Wind, And Makes Answer, 'thou Art My Sun.' So God Sits Effulgent In Heaven, Not For A Favored Few, But For The Universe Of Life; And There Is No Creature So Poor Or So Low That He May Not Look Up With Childish Confidence And Say, 'my Father, Thou Art Mine.

God's Grace Is The Oil That Fills The Lamp Of Love.

Life Is Full Of Amusement To An Amusing Man.

When A Man's Pride Is Subdued It's Like The Sides Of Mount Aetna. It Was Terrible During The Eruption, But When That Is Over And The Lava Is Turned Into Soil, There Are Vineyards And Olive Trees Which Grow Up To The Top.