But the father and mother, and the dear
God, were the only beings on whom his affections were fixed; for his
sensitive nature shrank from the contact of the honest-hearted, but
rough peasant neighbours, that made the little world of their simple
life. But soon death came, and the good father left the earth for
the beautiful Heaven-world. The little Gotleib missed his kind
father; but his mother told him of the bright inner life, and how
his father yet lived and loved him; and the heart of the boy was
comforted: he felt a sense of elevation in having his father, whom
he had known so familiarly here upon earth, now the companion of
angels, and living in such a bright and beautiful world.
Ah, life had to him such an inner beauty; and, when still, dreamy
moments of leisure intervened between his work and play, he revelled
in such dreams of fancy, as lent light and life and joy to his whole
being. But the death of the kind father had not only carried the
boy's fancy to the other world; it was also drawing the mother's
heart away to the fair spirit-land. Gotleib saw his mother's face
growing thin and pale; he knew that she was weak--for oftentimes, in
the long winter evenings, as he read to her from the holy word of
God, her hand would drop wearily with the raised spindle, and she,
who was never before idle, would fold her hands in a quiet, meek
resignation.
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