"I had a tiny box, a precious box
of human love-my spikenard of great price;
I kept it close within my heart of hearts.
And scarce would lift the lid lest it should waste
Its perfume on the air. One day a strange
Deep sorrow came with crushing weight, and fell
And broke the box to atoms. All my heart
Rose in dismay ans sorrow at this waste,
But as I mourned, behold a miracle
Of grace Divine. My human love was changed
To heaven's own, and poured in healing streams
On other broken hearts, while soft and clear
A voice above me whispered, "Child of mine,
With comfort wherewith thou art comforted,
From this time forth, go comfort others,
And thou shalt know blest fellowship with Me,
Whose broken heart of love hath healed the world."
-taken from Streams in the Desert, Mrs. Charles E. Cowman
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