| Home Making |
Chapter 9 |
Page 10 |
There is another class of memories which, sooner or later, become part of the history of every home. These are memories of sorrows and losses.
“There is no flock, however watched and tended
But one dead lamb is there;
There is no fireside, howsoe’er defended,
But has one vacant chair.
“The air is full of farewells to the dying
And mourning for the dead.”
There is no home into which grief dos not come in some form. Nearly every house has its secret drawer, which is not very often opened, which contains the dresses, the tiny shoes, the dolls or toys of a little prattler whom God took.
“And oh, since that baby slept
So hushed, how the mother has kept,
With a tearful pleasure,
That little treasure,
And o’er it thought and wept!
As it lies before her there
There babbles from chair to chair
A little sweet face
That’s a gleam in the place,
With its little gold curls of hair.”
Page 10
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