Definitely, definitely! If I say it has to depend upon his acceptance, I am passing the buck. Because if all things by a law divine in one another’s being mingle, then I have influence and I do it wittingly or unwittingly anyway. I don’t ask my child’s permission to hear good news for her. I love her and I hear good news for her. So, when she writes home, as all children do, “Oh, this is going to be a very tough exam, I don’t know if I’ll pass or not. In fact, it’s in the lap of the gods and my teachers whether I even graduate!” I don’t hear anything. So the last report card came in, beautiful B+s, A-s, and she’s away up on the Dean’s list. Well, they can’t go any higher than the Dean’s list. And so, she’s an intelligent child, I know. She does make the effort. But I have never once waited for her to ask help. I love her. And so, eventually, you allow everyone, and ask no one’s permission to love them. You know that wonderful poem? “He drew a circle that shut me out, ‘Infidel! Scoundrel! A thing to flout!’ But love and I had the wit to win, and we drew a circle that took him in.” And so you take him in. You don’t ask permission to take him in. He can shut you out if he wants to live in a little place all by himself. Grant him that right too. But you don’t shut him out when he shuts you out. Eventually, [...]. These little words in the epistle of John, “We love him because he first loved us.” Goodnight.730 ¶55