How familiar all! A year seemed not to have
intervened since I had stood beneath that roof. The deep, arched
windows, the antique pulpit and chancel, the old gallery and organ,
the lofty roof, but most of all the broad tablet above the pulpit,
and the words "Reverence my Sanctuary: I am the Lord," were as
familiar as the face of a dear friend. There was change all around,
but no change here in the house of God.
Seating myself in the old family pew, I gave my mind up to a flood
of crowding associations; and there I sat, scarcely conscious of the
passing time, until the bell sounded clear above me its weekly
summons to the worshippers. And soon they began to assemble, one
after another coming in, and silently taking their places. Conscious
that I was intruding, I yet remained in the old family pew. It
seemed as if I could not leave it--as if I must sit there and
hearken once more to the words of life. And I was there when the
rightful owners came. I arose to retire, but was beckoned to remain.
So I resumed my seat, thankful for the privilege. Group after group
entered, but faces of strangers were all around me. Presently a
white-haired old man came slowly along the aisle, and, entering the
chancel, ascended to the pulpit.
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