The crowd had passed; the mocking, scornful crowd
which had accused her and pronounced her doom.
Trembling, bowed with the weight of condemnation,
she found she stood alone with one they had called "Master,"
nor dared to raise her face until he spoke.
Then, as his voice, deep with compassion,
reached her burdened heart,
her eyes in wonder lifted
and beheld his look, deep, searching, kind,
which rested on her.
And as she waited, marveling at these things,
into the silence which encompassed them
(enfolding them like some protective cloud)
upon her listening heart there fell those wondrous words
of comfort and command,
"Neither do I condemn thee; go, and sin no more."
"O Thou that hearest prayer,"
Just this I pray,
"Bestow on me Thy gift of gentleness, the art
of humble, Christlike ministry.
Give me, dear God, an understanding heart."
