All my life when I’d ever been lonely
and I prayed to Him, He always came.
And tonight when I need Him I’ve only
to call out His name.

He comes with the cure for my sadness:
If I would receive, I must give;
share the grace I’ve been given, with gladness,
so that others may live.

For it’s only by helping another,
it’s only when I fill the needs
of a Heavenly sister or brother
that He intercedes

and lightens my cross, shares my burden,
gives me strength, whispers peace to my soul.
With the oil He gives me, my lantern
continues to glow.

If I now would be raised from my sorrow
and partake of His Heavenly gift,
I must temper my tears and tomorrow
find a soul I can lift.

My first novel, The Doll in McCallaway’s Store, is all about the human soul’s need to give of itself to others. In the novel, Annabel McNeely writes this poem in an attempt to communicate that need. We cannot live unto ourselves alone—not if happiness is our goal. The times I have been the happiest have been those times when I’ve forgotten myself, and I am only able to forget myself when I am intensely concerned about someone else. When that happens, my mind is wholly occupied either by thinking of ways I can best help or by carrying out plans it (my mind) has already made to help that someone, so there’s no room or time for thoughts centered on me. I think that our need to be thinking of someone else instead of ourselves is one reason we read fiction. Through good fiction we get to know other souls well enough to hope for them, pull for them. Getting to know real souls is more difficult and risky, but also more rewarding. And because of our love and concern for them we add “pray for them” to that list.