Little Bessie was nearly three years old. She was a good child, and not shallow, not frivolous, but meditative and thoughtful, and much given to thinking out the reasons of things and trying to make them harmonize with results. One day she said:
“Mamma, why is there so much pain and sorrow and suffering? What is it all for?”
It was an easy question, and mamma had no difficulty in answering it: “It is for our good, my child. In His wisdom and mercy the Lord sends us these afflictions to discipline us and make us better.”
“Is it He that sends them?”
“Does He send all of them, mamma?”
“Yes, dear, all of them. None of them comes by accident; He alone sends them, and always out of love for us, ...