It never fails, if a boy should love a girl that he loses
some sleep in the bargain. It never fails, when a young
women first be a mother, that she be stricken now and
again with fear and doubt, and sometime wonder many
nights whether the child still breathes and should check on her.
It never fails, that a father be not the father he might wish
he was, and that all the sorrow which he is father to should
grieves him when he see it. And yet it never fails, if he look
steadily at his faults that by a power not his own he learn
ever so little to stand between himself and his faults as one
who fills a breach, and this sacrifice never fails. And It never
fails, when a child grow ill and is lost through that illness,
that he or she yet remains and haunts house and heart.
Or if a child go astray or all communication somehow
breaks off, a wound of resentment or of something
deeper than disappointment will stand—this never fails.
And it never fails that if one discover how precious a thing
is love, and how precious the beloved son or daughter, father or mother, sister, brother,
wife or husband…
that a way be found out, if at first only in prayer, but finally
in the flesh, to heal the breech.
It never fails, that even if only in faith, by a faith in very
Wonderful things whose fruit is rarely if ever tasted in this life, that
In such faith, a way is made, and knowledge is given that
it never fails. Love never fails
