"I have read of the deaths of martyrs--the stories of Peter and Paul, of Luther and Calvin. I respect and honor them all, along with Thomas and Stephen, and other honest and faithful men. And I've read the sweet story of Jesus, and expect to read it again. I've read of the Good Samartian, of charity's lesson begun, and my heart goes out in great pity to the wayward prodigal son.

All are so glad to welcome him, so quick to forget and forgive. It makes no difference what he has done, if he only comes back to live. They have always prayed for the prodigal boy, since the world begun, the joy, the glory, forgiveness, of the returning wayward son. But poets seem to forget to write of the saddest thing in the world--they are not so eager to welcome back the poor little prodigal girl.

Just why she turned out deceived--she happened to find the right one, who had the slick tongue of Judas, and that was your prodigal son. Though the boy is upheld and forgiven, it is common all over the world, that you scornfully point out for gossip the poor little prodigal girl. There is nothing so truly pathetic as the life of a maiden who falls. And if you search down to the bottom, you will find the cause of it all.

But he is led back to society and nursed with the tenderest care, held up to the world as a hero, and mentioned fervently in prayer. While she is cast out from her loved ones, out in the hard cruel world, and everyone points out and scorns her, the poor little prodigal girl. Now, as has been said quite often, and we will repeat it again, the lowest of fallen women are better than some men."

--Gladys M. Rich--(Poem submitted by sister Pearl Conley)