Of the Mission there is little to
see. Its priest and its people are full of
imperfections. It is justly criticized. It stems few or
perhaps no waves of wickedness. But almost all, up and
down the valley, up and down the mountains, sooner or
later feel the warmth of its Soul.
At Christmas and Easter, when death strikes, in baptism,
in need and succor, some force unseen and inexplicable
is powerful and warming and winning. It is the Soul of
the Mission. It is God.
— The Rev. George W.