A LADY sat alone in her own apartment one clear evening, when the
silver stars were out, and the moon shone pure as the spirit of
peace upon the rebellious earth. How lovely was every outward thing!
How beautiful is God's creation! The window curtains were drawn
close, and the only light in the cheerful room, was given by a
night-lamp that was burning on the mantel-piece. The occupant, who
perhaps had numbered about thirty-five years, was sitting by a small
table in the centre of the room, her head leaning upon one slender
hand; the other lay upon the open page of a book in which she had
endeavoured to interest herself. But the effort had been vain; other
and stronger feelings had overpowered her; there was an expression
of suffering upon the gentle face, over which the tears rained
heavily. For a brief moment she raised her soft blue eyes upward
with an appealing look, then sunk her head upon the table before
her, murmuring,
"Father! forgive me! it is good for me. Give me strength to bear
everything. Pour thy love into my heart, for I am desolate--if I
could but be useful to one human being--if I could make one person
happier, I should be content.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25