CANDLES

By Margery Vener Reed

BEFORE a statue of Joan of Arc, in a little country church, a child knelt in prayer.

OH protect my papa-the little one prayed.

SHE lighted a candle-offered it to the Maid of France.

* * * * *

A YOUNG girl prayed at the feet of the Saint. She burned a candle.

FOR ANDRé-for his safety.

THE invaders entered the village,-heeding neither church nor ground of the dead.

THEY ripped open shallow graves to show the living they had power-even over those who had gone. They killed the priest. And the nuns, even, from the school.

THEY damaged.

DESTROYED-

THE church caught fire. The candles, burning before the Saint of Domremy, blazed into one huge flame. It shot up to the roof. And seemed to cry-

O JOAN OF ARC-come back-France needs you.

* * * * *

THE child-

AN Angel of Heaven

THE young girl who had prayed for André-two officers had taken her.

SHE struggled-

A SWORD-

THE flames of the burning village had revealed it.

MONSIEUR L'ABBé had said suicide was sin-but surely God would forgive-

SHE pierced the sword into her white flesh-blood flowed to the ground.

LITTLE FOOL muttered the maddened officer.

HE went back to the village-for more destroying.

A STONE from a burning house-

HE died with an oath.

BUT André, weeks before, had died with prayer upon his lips-a thought for his sweet betrothed.