when i was a little boy i used to play with my brother and sister under the window where mother sat knitting. she rarely looked out, but the moment we got angry she always seemed to know, and her kind and gentle voice would come through the window, saying, “sing it, children! sing it.”

once i remember we were playing marbles, and i shouted out to my brother:

“you cheated!”

“i didn’t!”

“you did!”

“sing it, children, sing it!”

we were silent.

“sing it, children!”

we continued silent. we couldn’t sing it. we began to feel ashamed.

then came the sweet voice, the sweetest but one i ever heard, singing to the tune of “o, how i love jesus” the words:

“o willie, you cheated!

o willie, you cheated!

o willie, you cheated!

but i didn’t cheat you!”

it sounded so ridiculous we all burst out laughing.

you cannot sing when you are angry; you cannot sing when you are mean; you cannot sing when you are scared. in other words, you cannot sing unless you feel in some degree faith, or hope, or charity.

i think of god as at the window of heaven. so long as he hears us singing he knows we are filled with a sweet and lovely spirit.