Things mostly happen for the best.
However hard it seems to-day,
When some fond plan has gone astray
Or, what you've wished for most is lost
An' you sit countin' up the cost
With eyes half-blind by tears o'grief
While doubt is chokin' out belief,
You'll find when all is understood
That what seemed bad was really good.
Life can't be counted in a day.
The present rain that will not stop
Next autumn means a bumper crop.
We wonder why some things must be-
Care's purpose we can seldom see-
An' yet long afterwards we turn
To view the past, an' then we learn
That what once filled our minds with doubt
Was good for us as it worked out.
I've never know an hour of care
But that I've later come to see
That it has brought some joy to me.
Even the sorrows I have borne,
Leavin' me lonely an' forlorn
An' hurt an' bruised an' sick at heart,
An' though I could not understand
Why I should bow to Death's command,
That it was really better so.
Things mostly happen for the best.
So narrow is our vision here
That we are blinded by a tear
An' stunned by every hurt an' blow
Which comes to-day to strike us low.
An' yet some day we turn an' find
That what seemed cruel once was kind.
Most things, I hold, are wisely planned
If we could only understand.
- By Edgar A. Guest
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