Poems (Hoffman)/The Three Comforters

by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

THE THREE COMFORTERS

A little Job of modern years
Sat down in life's Sahara
In ashes, and such bitter tears
As filled the pools of Mara,
When in there came as come they must
Three friends as wise as sages
To little Jobs who sit in dust
Through all the troubled ages.
The first said: "Why do you repine?
I sing with sorrows doubled,
If you had griefs and cares like mine
Why then you might be troubled."
The next said: "Look around you, dear,
And see how others suffer,
Your neighbor's life is far more drear,
How many paths are rougher."
The third who was of stoic turn
Remarked in tone sarcastic:
"Control yourself as I, and learn
To not be quite so plastic,"
Then little Job was left alone,
When from life's battle scarry
Came one with gentle look and tone
Who said: "I am so sorry."
And little Job has lived to see
One weep, 'midst suffering neighbors
And she who sang triumphantly
Stop singing at her labors,
And she of strong and stoic will
Too hard and cold for human,
While little Job is growing still
A sweeter, wiser woman.
And she who wiped her tears away
In paths serene and starry
The only one of all to-day
For whom she is not sorry;
And little Job has found a key
She will not lose to-morrow
The heart's gold key is—sympathy,
Its iron door—human sorrow,
And she will take the Christ-like task
To comfort all who suffer
Not even taking time to ask
If some paths are not rougher,
Not even telling of her trust
That walks serene and starry,
Until her lips have whispered first
That golden key—"I'm sorry."