Now Wiseli sat alone in the dark room.
Every thing about her was suddenly silent,--not a sound to be heard. A
straggling moonbeam shone through the little window,--enough to show
the child where the bench by the stove was, upon which she must find
her bed. She crossed the room, and seated herself there. For the first
time that day since she had left her dear mother, she found herself
alone, and able to think over what had befallen her. She had been
constantly under excitement until this moment; for every thing that
had happened frightened her. All that she heard or saw since she left
her home had been so very unpleasant that she could not stop to think
at all, but went from one alarm to another. Now there she sat alone,
without her mother, and began to realize that it was all over,--that
they would never see nor hear each other again in this world. And such
a sense of loneliness, of utter desolation, took possession of Wiseli,
that she believed herself uncared for and forgotten by everybody, and
feared that she should be left there alone to die in the dark. The
poor child laid her head down upon her bundle, and began to cry,
bitterly and despairingly, "Mother, can you not hear me? Mother, do
not you hear me call?"
Now Wiseli's mother had often told her little girl, that when things
went very badly with us here below, then was the moment to lift up our
voices and cry to God for help; for he would hear us in our trouble when
all other's ears were deaf, and help us when no other help was possible.
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