In a small upper room a woman sat,
The sunlight softly falling on her hair
Through the low skylight window. On the floor
About her lay a precious, growing pile
Of sheets, close-written, almost shining with
The glorious inspiration of her thoughts,
All God-directed, marvelously filled
With messages of Truth and Love from heaven itself.
Her slender fingers flew across each page,
Swiftly to fulfill their holy task
And give to all mankind the sacred truth
Her heavenly Father trusted to her care.
She who herself had touched the shining hem
Of Christ's white robe, the undivided robe
Of healing for mankind, now lived to share
The treasure she had found. Her loving heart
Yearned over mortals, and with ceaseless prayer
She searched the Scriptures daily for the way.
