Speaker 1: The unseen hand, the consciousness of the hand when it
first was felt, always there, now as the hand of
a father, now as that of a mother, a lover,
a brother, always guiding, always leading a mystery. Some day
we will know the owner of the hand. I have
felt the unseen hand, have been guided by it, have
felt the kind but steady urge in the direction which
it knew to be best. Though my intellect failed to
see the beauty of the road toward which the hand
was directing me. For a time I rebelled against the
impertinent interference of that which seemed to be a thing
apart from me. A meddler and unasked for helper. I
had emerged from the dependent state, the state in which
I thought it necessary to lean upon us. I gloried
in my independence, my freedom, my ability to stand alone,
finding that it was good to stand alone, reveling in
the joy of my new found freedom, rejoicing in the
fact that the I am within me was a reality,
feeling within me the ecstasy that comes from the recognition
of the reality of individuality. I resented any interference from outside,
but the pressure of the hand was still here. It
would take my unwilling fingers within its own and lead
me on, and lead me on. Finding that I could
not yet rid of this unseen helper, realizing that it
was intent upon guiding me in spite of my repeated
assertions that I was able to take care of myself,
that I was big enough to walk alone, I began
to study the something that was so determined to take
an active part in the affairs of my life. I
started in to become acquainted with it. I found that
it had always been with me, more or less, but
that I had not before recognized its presence. So long
as I felt that I was not able to stand
erect upon my feet, so long as I feared, so
long as I failed to recognize the I am, I
was scarcely aware of this invisible helper. But when I
began to realize what I was, what was my place
in the universal order of things, what were my possibilities
my future, the presence of this unseen hand began to
be manifest When I at length threw off the last
fetter that had bound me, When I threw back my
shoulders and drew my first free breath, when I shouted
aloud with joy at my freedom, and strength. When I
realized the power that was within me and at my command,
when I started out to accomplish that which my awakened
mind told me was possible of attainment, when I started
to do these things all by myself, Then I felt
for the first time the firm clasp of the unseen hand,
now gently guiding, now leading, now kindly restraining, now giving
a gentle urge toward people, things, and conditions, Now drawing
me back from the edge of a precipice, now directing
toward a better path, now giving me a gentle, firm
pressure to reassure me of its presence when I doubted,
now allowing me to rest my weight upon it when
I felt tired. Always there. At times this hand has
placed before me conditions that seemed to me to be
anything good. At times it has brought me pain, but
I have learned to trust it. Have learned to trust it.
The conditions that have seemed to me to be undesirable
have brought me to desirable things. The pain that I
have suffered has brought me pleasure. The experiences that have
come to me I would not wish to part with.
The more pain, the more experience, the more experience. The
more knowledge I have learned to love this hand, and
the owner of the hand seems to feel and return
this love, and now and then, by a sympathetic little clasp,
lets me know that I am understood. This hand sometimes
seems to be that of a father, strong and firm,
leading on with a confident air. Again, it seems to
be that of a mother, gentle and calm mind, leading
me as does the mother lead her child. Again, it
seems as the hand of a woman who loves me,
clinging and warm, neither leading nor being led, just moving on,
clasped in mine, no words, but with a perfect understanding.
The owner of this hand seems to combine within itself
the qualities of both sexes. Seems to have within itself
all the attributes of father, mother, lover, brother, sister. It
seems to respond to the human need in every direction.
It seems always the hand of love, even while giving
me pain. I have never seen the face of the
owner of this hand. I have never looked into its eyes.
I have never seen its form, if form it has,
But I have been conscious at times of being lifted
up in its arms and being pressed close to its breast.
I have felt the impulse of the child at such times,
and have felt for the breast of the mother, and
have been conscious of the answering mother pressure as I
was drawn up close to the body of the owner
of the hand. And at times have I felt rebellious
at the confining clasp, and have struggled, and have even
beat against the breast with my puny fists as I
insisted that I be released from the clasping arms. But Mother,
like the owner of the hand, only drew me closer
to the breast until I could feel the very heart
throbs within the mother body, could feel the vibrations emanating
from its life, could feel the warm breath upon my cheek,
as the invisible face bent over me, impelled by the
mother love Again, it takes on the father form, and
I place my little hand within it, and, feeling like
the boy whose father is taking him on a journey,
I say, lead thou me on, and go cheerfully and
with faith into new lands, new surroundings, new fields. Why
should I fear? Have I not hold of my father's hand?
And the hand at such times rests upon my shoulder
every once in a while, and I realize that the
father feels a pride in his son, and sees him
growing in strength, and knowing that the father looks forward
to a time when he will be able to talk
with the boy, who will then have grown in knowledge
and will be able to understand some of the secrets
of life that the father will then unfold to him.
And still again, the hand is that of the loving
woman who is walking along the path of life with
the man she loves. It is a tender clasp, the
fingers tingle with love. The arm presses close to mine.
I hear no voice, No words are needed. Soul talks
to soul in the silence. We walk on and on
and on we understand. And still again, the hand seems
that of a brother, a twin brother. Neither the protection
of the father, the loving tenderness of the mother, the
thrill of the lover's touch is there. I feel not
that the hand is that of a stronger being. I
am conscious only of the brotherly clasp, the touch of comradeship,
the presence of an equal. I feel by my side,
a helper, some one who will back me up in
time of need, and I stroll along his side and
laugh with joy. The joy of the boy is again mine.
The joy of companionship is again mine. And lo, the
hand of the brother seems to grow. He and I
are again men, And something in his hand clasp seems
to say to me, Come, brother, let us go forth
into the unknown future. Let us have faith. There are
lands awaiting our coming. Let us enjoy them, let us
explore them. Let us be filled with the spirit of adventure,
and go forth. Let us see, let us feel, let
us know. And I return the clasp and say, ay, brother,
let us go forth. Whither thou goest? There will I go?
Thy joys shall be my joy, thy pain, my pain.
Let us go forth, Let us go forth to the
divine adventure, and so manifesting the attributes of all human
relations in turn and at the proper time. The owner
of this unseen hand is near me. I feel his presence,
I am aware of his nearness. At times faith grows faint,
and I think it all a delusion, a phantasm, a dream.
All seems lost, and I weep. But Lo, in the
midst of my despair, I feel the hand upon my head.
I know that it is of reality, and through my
tears I smile. Shall I ever know the owner of
this hand? Shall I ever see its face? Shall I
ever understand the mystery of its existence? I know not,
but faith whispers in my ear. Wait all is well.
When the pupil is ready, the master appears. When you're
eyes have a clear vision and can bear the sight.
Then shall you see the face of the owner of
the hand. You have entered the path, and there is
no turning back. Go on, go on in faith, courage
and confidence. Why should you doubt? Have you not felt
the pressure of the hand? I? Why should I doubt
or question? Have I not felt the pressure of the
unseen hand? Open your hands, friends, that the hand may
clasp yours as it has mine. While your hand is
clenched in anger and hate, while it clutches tight the
gold it has snatched from the hand of another, while
the fingers are drawn together with fear, it cannot receive
the unseen hand. Open it wide, reach it out, Offer
it in friendly clasp, and you will feel within it
the touch of that which you seek. The unseen hand
is waiting to clasp yours. Give it welcome, Give it welcome,