Атлант расправил плечи

           IlistenedtomychildrenandIknewthatnothingwoulddefeatthem.Ilookedatthem,astheysatinmybackyard,andbeyondmyhousetherewerethetall,darkbuildingsofwhatwasstillamonumenttounenslavedthought—thePatrickHenryUniversity—andfartherinthedistancetherewerethelightsofCleveland,theorangeglowofsteelmillsbehindbatteriesofsmokestacks,thetwinklingreddotsofradiotowers,thelongwhiteraysofairportsontheblackedgeofthesky—andIthoughtthatinthenameofanygreatnessthathadeverexistedandmovedthisworld,thegreatnessofwhichtheywerethelastdescendants,theywouldwin...IrememberonenightwhenInoticedthatJohnhadbeensilentforalongtime—andIsawthathehadfallenasleep,stretchedthereontheground.

           Thetwoothersconfessedthathehadnotsleptforthreedays.Isentthetwoofthemhomeatonce,butIdidn’thavethehearttodisturbhim.Itwasawarmspringnight,Ibroughtablankettocoverhim,andIlethimsleepwherehewas.Isattherebesidehimtillmorning—andasIwatchedhisfaceinthestarlight,thenthefirstrayofthesunonhisuntroubledforeheadandclosedeyelids,whatIexperiencedwasnotaprayer,Idonotpray,butthatstateofspiritatwhichaprayerisamisguidedattempt:afull,confident,affirmingself-dedicationtomyloveoftheright,tothecertaintythattherightwouldwinandthatthisboywouldhavethekindoffuturehedeserved."Hemovedhisarm,pointingtothevalley.