An Interrupted Night by Pansy

MARY DUNLAP, left alone in the big beautiful room with the echo of the scornful young words, and the echo of that slammed door hurting into her soul, suddenly rested her elbow on the arm of the chair in which she sat, and dropped her tired head upon her hand. With closed eyes she prayed, her soul crying out from the depth of her failure. She had done her best for this little sister and she had utterly failed. Now she called upon her Father for sustaining strength, for light, for guidance, for calmness in the midst of despair; for the headstrong blinded girl, and for the worn despairing mother.

Then out of her despair came peace, and suddenly a knowledge that the Father cared more than she did, even more than the stricken mother.