What is growing in wisdom?

Chickens must be hovered, now and then―or they die. 

The hovering idea threads through all life, from the brooding of a young thing to the sheltering sympathy of the wise for the foolish.

Wisdom must be the sun to help to germinate better mental habits in the meagrely endowed. 

Under the warmth of sympathy, the seed of wisdom germinates in the brain of the fool. 

Jesus, above all, understood children, and the child mind.

Look at the rum bunch he had as disciples. 

None of them had either brain―or courage―they all gave Him the go-by in His trouble. 

Not a (WO)MAN, in the outfit apparently, yet look what Jesus developed out of that lot with patient love, as his main asset. 

They got busy, and died game, and developed so far along the real road that this example alone should have made the universe sit up and take notice.

What sort of power was it that could transform a lot of dubs into heroes and martyrs and hustlers for the good? 

I never heard anyone preach on that subject. 

Jesus took a lot of low-brows and made them over in one life. 

He had to die to make a dent on them, but they woke up at last, as He knew they would, as anyone might know who knows that the greatest stimulant in the universe is love, and that all souls respond to it if you give them time—even the devil, but that is another story.

Letters from Harry and Helen