God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.

One soweth and another reapeth.

Jesus saith unto him, Go thy way, thy son liveth.

Wilt thou be made whole?

Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life.

"Yes," she said, "I know a story about that last one. It happened a great many years ago, as the most of my stories do. Are you all ready?"

The hassock and chairs were by this time fixed in their accustomed places, and the silence kept by all the children showed that they were ready for the story, without Harold's announcement to that effect. So Grandma began:

"It was one day in November, just before Thanksgiving, when I was about twelve years old, that my brother Fred and I received a note from a lady who lived out in the country a mile or two, which said that she wanted us to come and spend Thanksgiving with her. We were both very fond of Mrs. Watson, and were delighted when father said we might go.

"So that afternoon he harnessed Old Gray to the sleigh, and took us around to Mrs. Watson's. It was quite cold, I remember, and father said he guessed there would be a big snowstorm in the night. The house we were going to was a little low one, that was old-fashioned even then, and with only one story.

"Mrs. Watson came to the gate to meet us, and showed us into her warm kitchen, while father said good-by, and hurried home. We had some nice fresh milk and bread for supper, and went to bed early. I was very tired, and didn't waken till I heard the big clock strike six, so I hurried up, and dressed very fast, all the time wondering what made the room so dark. I couldn't see out of doors, because of the curtain at the little window.

"When I came into the other room, I saw my brother up on a chair at the window, looking over what seemed to be a white sheet tacked to it, and Mrs. Watson watching him. 'You can't see anything but snow,' he said presently, 'for the little hill hides the road.' 'Why, what is the matter?' I asked, surprising them so that Fred nearly fell off his chair. And how frightened I was when I found the snow had drifted against the house, so that we could neither see out of the windows, nor get out of the door!

"My!" said Sarah. "Why, we never see so much snow as that here, Grandma."

"I know, dear," said Grandma Burton, "but where I lived when I was a little girl was much farther North than we are now, you know, and I remember that in the winters we often used to go out sleighriding, and ride over the tops of the fences, not being able to see them at all."

"What fun! Now go on, Grandma."

"Well, we tried to make a way through the drift, but didn't succeed. My brother said he thought he could shovel a path, but Mrs. Watson told him she had lent her big shovel to Mr. Smith the day before, while his was getting mended, and had only a little one for the fire. So all there was to do was to get breakfast, and wait for some one to come and dig as out of the drift, or rather, dig the drift away from us.

"We did pretty well for breakfast, only we hadn't any bread. 'I was out of flour,' said Mrs. Watson, 'before I knew it, and Mr. Jones was to bring me another barrel this morning, but I don't suppose he will come, now that there is so much snow.' The turkey was there in the pantry, so were the cranberries; Mrs. Watson let Fred and me help cook them for dinner, and we tried to make the best of our condition, and think as little as possible of the great wall of snow outside the house. But it was hard work; every little while the tears would come into my eyes, to think of my dear father and mother at home, not knowing how we were snowed up in the little red farmhouse.

"A little while after breakfast we all sat down to have family worship, and Mrs. Watson, taking down her big old Bible, read part of the sixth chapter of John. I remember it now, just as well as I did years ago, how she read about Jesus' feeding that great multitude, when they had nothing to eat. And then how he told his disciples afterward what was the best bread to have, and said, 'I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.'

"'Children,' said Mrs. Watson, when she had finished reading, 'Jesus can give us the bread we eat, and the bread of life, just as well now as he could then. Let us ask him for the two kinds.' And then we knelt down, and she prayed very earnestly that God would not only give us the bread that we needed then to eat, but would also give us the blessed bread of life. And I am sure Fred and I prayed too.

"The dinner was a pretty good one, with the turkey and all, but we missed the bread again. It is wonderful how much you do need that, no matter what else you have. I had often thought, before that Thanksgiving, that I could get along just as well without bread as with it, if I had plenty of other things, but I saw, in just that one day, how necessary it was.

"We had a pretty lonely afternoon. Nearly always, when we went to see Mrs. Watson, we had a very good time, but with that great wall of snow outside the house, and the weather growing colder and colder, so that it couldn't melt, it was impossible to be very happy, no matter how much we tried. It seemed awful to go to bed feeling so badly, though I knew that father would be after us in the morning. Every little while, all the afternoon, I would flatten my nose against the window, and after looking at the snow a minute, I would shut my eyes tight, and pray to God that he would have somebody come and help us soon. And I really thought he would answer.

"When supper time came, and the clock struck six, we were all real glad, I guess, for we hadn't eaten so very much for dinner, and were pretty hungry; besides, supper would give us something to do. But there wasn't much of it—no bread, and no milk—only a little cold turkey for each of us, for the coal was all gone, and we couldn't cook anything. The room was growing cold. I put mother's shawl around me, and Fred put on his overcoat, while Mrs. Watson got her shawl too. We had to light a candle long before supper time, it got dark so early, when only a little bit of light could come in at the windows.

"So there we sat, in the cold kitchen. Once or twice Mrs. Watson suggested that my brother and I should go to bed, but he was sure he didn't want to—neither did I. So she got out an old game of checkers, and we played awhile, till we grew sleepy in spite of ourselves, and I dropped off into dreamland with my head on Mrs. Watson's lap, and Fred with his on the table. I didn't waken till the clock struck ten, and then I sat up and looked about me in surprise. I could hardly remember where I was, when suddenly I heard a dull thud, which made all of us jump.

"We opened the front door wide. Just as we did so, a great mass of snow came into our faces, soon a snow-shovel appeared, and next—the face of my father! O, how glad we were! He stepped into the room, and threw his arms about Fred and me, covering us with a coating of snow. Two or three more men came in then, one of them with a basket which had been sent by my mother, and as Mrs. Watson took off the cover, I spied a huge piece of bread and butter, and contented myself with that. You can't think how good it was to have some bread again! It seemed a year since I had had any!

"That's about all there is to tell, except that in the morning father drove Fred and me home in the sleigh, just as we had come. The reason the verse made me think of that Thanksgiving was that I had never before realized how valuable and necessary bread was, and why Jesus called himself 'the bread of life.'

"My brother told me, a great many years later, that he believed that day was the first time he ever really made up his mind to come to the 'Bread of life,' and never hunger again."

"Why didn't they come sooner?" asked Rollo.

"They didn't know Mrs. Watson's house was snowed up so. It was out in the country, you know, and the snow hadn't drifted so badly in the town. But they missed us from meeting in the morning, and in the afternoon a man came into town, and told them he had seen the house with the wall of snow all around it. So they got their shovels, and came right out to help us."

"I think it was dreadful!" said Marion.

"But God was taking care of us, dearie," said Grandma, "and he heard and answered our prayers."