Hungry Hearts
"Yes, indeed! My mother, like so many mothers,"--and her eyebrows
lifted humorously whimsical,--"claims we're descendants of the
Pilgrim fathers. And that one of our lineal ancestors came over in the
Mayflower."
"For all your mother's pride in the Pilgrim fathers, you yourself
are as plain from the heart as an immigrant."
"Weren't the Pilgrim fathers immigrants two hundred years ago?"
She took from her desk a book called "Our America," by Waldo Frank,
and read to me: "We go forth all to seek America. And in the seeking
we create her. In the quality of our search shall be the nature of the
America that we create."
"Ach, friend! Your words are life to me! You make it light for my
eyes!"
She opened her arms to me and breathlessly I felt myself drawn to
her. Bonds seemed to burst. A suffusion of light filled my being. Great
choirings lifted me in space.
I walked out unseeingly.
All the way home the words she read flamed before me: "We go forth
all to seek America. And in the seeking we create her. In the quality
of our search shall be the nature of the America that we create."
So all those lonely years of seeking and praying were not in vain! How
glad I was that I had not stopped at the husk--a good job--a good
living--but pressed on, through the barriers of materialism.
Through my inarticulate groping and reaching-out I had found the
soul--the spirit--of America!
THE END
[ Transcriber's Note:
The following changes have been made to the original text. The first
line presents the text as printed in the original, the second the
amended text.
"Ci-i! You really like it, the room?" Shenah Pessah clapped her
"Oi-i! You really like it, the room?" Shenah Pessah clapped her
Make straight in the desert a highway for our God
Make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
]