The Activist Cleric
HIS COMPANIONS are young. His admirers are the youthful and the young in heart. It was not always so: a boy of sensitivity and intelligence, he had held to a shy belief that one might help people, and lead them, through love of God, to goodness. Very young, he was set apart thus by his intentions. He read much, dreamed alone, tried his hand at painting pictures, and took some teasing of a respectful kind. When his classmates courted each other in grade school, they told him he would perform their wedding services one day. It was that sort of thing they said to him, not much more, and, all good-humoredly, he did not mind their inattention. He had learned early that love of God and faith made him subject to a different kind of approbation from that accorded to those around him, and when he had forgotten many other things he would remember that. He understood that he would have to enjoy a fraternity other than that of his mates; and so expectantly he would see his own youth spent without the affection of his peers, though they paid him a decent respect.
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