"I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord; he that

believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and

whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die."

She believed; and, while a beautiful world linked her to life, and

duty called to constant and cheerful labor, death lost its hideous

aspect. With a firm faith in the Gospel of Christ, she felt that

earth with all its loveliness was but a probationary dwelling-place;

and that death was an angel of God, summoning the laborers to their

harvest home. She had often asked what is the aim and end of life?

One set of philosophers told her it was to be happy. Another

exclaimed it was to learn to endure with fortitude all ills. But

neither satisfied her; one promised too much, the other too little,

and only in revelation was an answer found. Yet how few pause to

ponder its significance! With the majority, life is the all: the

springtime, the holiday; and death the hated close of enjoyment.

They forget that "Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way;

But to act that each to-morrow

Find us further than to-day."

The path of Christianity is neither all sunshine nor all shadow,

checkered certainly, but leading to a final abode of unimaginable

bliss; and, with the Bible to guide her, the orphan walked

fearlessly on, discharging her duties, and looking unto God and his

Christ to aid her. She sat on the steps of the sepulcher, watching

the last rays of the setting sun gild the monumental shafts that

pointed to heaven. Her grave face might have told the scrutinizing

observer of years of grief and struggle; but it also betokened an

earnest soul calmly trusting the wisdom and mercy of the All-Father.

She sighed as she thought of the gifted but unhappy woman who slept

near her, and, rising, walked on to Lilly's tomb. Ten years had

rolled their waves over her since that little form was placed here.

She looked down at the simple epitaph: "He taketh his young lambs

home." The cherub face seemed to beam upon her once more, and the

sweet, birdlike tones of her childish voice still lingered in the

secret cells of memory. She extended her arms, as if to clasp the

form borne up by the angels, and said tremulously: "Lilly, my sister, my white-robed darling, but a little while and we

shall meet where orphanage is unknown! 'He doeth all things well!'

Ah, little sleeper, I can wait patiently for our reunion."




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