In the fullness of youth, wealth, beauty, and love were hers. Yet all her dreams were of fame.
"I will write a great book," she said, "and my name shall be upon every lip, and my praises sung throughout the land."
So, in the joy and vanity of youth, she wrote her book. But fame stood a long way off. Then, as time passed, sorrow came into her life. Grief blotted out ambition, and dreams of fame were forgotten.
But once more she took up her pen.
"I will write a book," she said again, "and it shall be not for the multitude, but for the few who have suffered as I have suffered. It shall speak to them as a sister speaks, and give counsel and courage and cheer."
So she wrote her book. And it was a book not for the few, but for the multitude. For all had suffered. And her name was upon every lip, and her praises sung throughout the land.
And lo, fame had come.—Ladies' Home Journal.
