Some time since, in the early spring, I was going
out at my door when round the corner came a blast
of east wind–defiant and pitiless, fierce and
withering–sending a cloud of dust before it.
I was just taking the latchkey from the door as I
said, half impatiently, “I wish the wind
would”–I was going to say change; but the word
was checked, and the sentence was never finished.
As I went on my way, the incident became a
parable to me. There came an angel holding out a
key; and he said:
“My Master sends thee His love, and bids me give
you this.”
“What is it?” I asked, wondering. “The key of the
winds,” said the angel, and disappeared.
Now indeed should I be happy. I hurried away up
into the heights whence the winds came, and stood
amongst the caves. “I will have done with the
east wind at any rate–and that shall plague us
no more,” I cried; and calling in that friendless
wind, I closed the door, and heard the echoes
ringing in the hollow places. I turned the key
triumphantly. “There,” I said, now we have done
with that.”
“What shall I choose in its place?” I asked
myself, looking about me. “The south wind is
pleasant”; and I thought of the lambs, and the
young life on every hand, and the flowers that
had begun to deck the hedgerows. But as I set the
key within the door, it began to burn my hand.
“What am I doing?” I cried; “who knows what
mischief I may bring about? How do I know what
the fields want! Ten thousand things of ill may
come of this foolish wish of mine.”
Bewildered and ashamed, I looked up and prayed
that the Lord would send His angel yet again to
take the key; and for my part I promised that I
would never want to have it any more.
But lo, the Lord Himself stood by me. He reached
His hand to take the key; and as I laid it down,
I saw that it rested against the sacred
wound-print.
It hurt me indeed that I could ever have murmured
against anything wrought by Him who bare such
sacred tokens of His love. Then He took the key
and hung it on His girdle.
“Dost THOU keep the key of the winds?” I asked.
“I do, my child,” He answered graciously.
And lo, I looked again and there hung all the
keys of all my life. He saw my look of amazement,
and asked, “Didst thou not know, my child, that
my kingdom ruleth over all?”
“Over all, my Lord!” I answered; “then it is not
safe for me to murmur at anything?” Then did He
lay His hand upon me tenderly. “My child,” He
said, “thy only safety is, in everything, to love
and trust and praise.” –Mark Guy Pearse
“The Lord hath prepared his throne in the
heavens; and his kingdom ruleth over all” (Ps.
103:19).
