THE GARLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 3595, 6 February 1923, Page 57

THE GARLAND.

FOR THE QUIET HOUR. No. 493.

Ay

DUNCAN WRIGHT, Dunedin

MOTHER. -TO MY MOTHER.” I'm moved by mixed feelings to-day, Mother. ’Xwas a lump in my throat for a start. As I grieved that to-morrow,—your birth- * «iay. , , Would find us so far apart. My memory is busy to-day, Mothei, As 1 think of your birthday—and mine; I owe eo much to those days, Mothei, And thank God for your birthday—and mine. You're the loveliest woman 1 know, Mother, My whole being acclaims your worth, And to-day in loving devotion, 1 hail! you as Queen of the "Earth. There's, a song in my heart to-day. Mother, And, my blood throbs fast and warm, - For yob are the heart behind; my pulse. And the music that lives in my song. There’s a throb and a thrill in my heart, Mother, And a glow in my glad soul, too, I've the stamp of ycur love in my being, Thank God, dearest Mother, for you. No power on earth can divide us, Mother, For I am eoul of your soul, And in heaven we’ll have one another To love while the glad ages roll. A. K. Harris. THE MOTHER’S LETTER. At the Fulton Street Prayer Meeting in New York many thrilling incidents are related. A gentleman came into one of the meetings, and laid a sealed letter on the desk of the leader ; and turning to the audience, he said : *‘l am a Methodist minister; and I have been appointed to a special service which will require me to be travelling most of the year in California. Hearing of this, a devoted Christian mother came to me, and putting this letter into my hand, requested me to carry it to California, and enquire everywhere for her son : and if 1 should find him, out this letter in his hand, and tell him it was from his mother. I lay this letter here before you, and ask you to pray that 1 may find this son ; and that God will make this letter a means of his salvation. Till now that mother has been an entire stranger to me ; but I feel that there is a solemn and special providence in this matter.’’ 1 can give no idea of" the effect uoon the meeting which this request produced. It was tender and overwhelming. Men wept JiKe children during prayer—prayer wfiich was exceedingly earnest, and went up from the meeting as from the heart of one man. This was in 1858. I happened to be at a prayer meeting in Philadelphia the next year, when this same minister arose and told the story of the finding of this praying mother’s son. lie said he carried that letter in his pocket for nearly a year, everywhere inquiring for the young man to whom it was addressed. . ' "At last,” said the preacher, "I found him. He was at a gambling saloon in Sacramento. 1 had him pointed out to me; and walking up to him, and putting my hand upon his shoulder, I told him 1 wished to have a few minutes’ conversation with him outside. “Wait,’ he said, ‘till I have played out this game, and I will go with you.’ lie was with me in a few minutes : and when by ourselves he said, ‘What is it?’ “ ‘Here is a letter,’ said I, ‘from your mother, which I have carried almost a year to give you. It is a letter from your mother ; and I was directed to give this to you with my own hand. And here is is.’ “The young man turned deadly pale. ‘Oh,’ said he, ‘don’t give it—l can’t take it “ ‘Yes,’ said I, ‘yon can, and shall take it. I am not to have a year’s work for nothing. Please take it and read it: and see if there is anything more I can do for you.

“Tlie young man read it and seemed overwhelmed with deep and sudden distress. ‘Oh,’ he groaned out, ‘what can I do? w oat shall I do? I am a poor, undone wretch. What shall Ido ?’ “ ‘Do?’ said I. ‘We must begin somewnere, and do as fast as we find anything to do. And in this very moment and as the first thing to be done, I want you to kneel down, and on your knees sign this temperance pledge.’ The signing was soon done; for 1 found him willing to do anything. “ ‘Now',’ said I, ‘are you willing to kneel right here and now, and pledge yourself to Jesus Christ, that you will be his, now and for ever?’ _ “ ‘Yes,’ he answered, ‘I am willing.’ “‘Then kneel right down beside me; and 1 will ask God to lead your heart and mind in all you do in this solemn hour, for you must become a Christian in J.bis very hour and on this very spot.’ “ ‘Oh that I might find my dear mother s Saviour here and now !’ "We knelt together, so close that my shoulder touched him. t prayed; and T cannot tell how 1 prayed. I never could. Sultice it to say that- the Hoty Spirit seemed to be poured upon us. We arose from our knees, and threw our arms around each other. The man had become a new man in Christ Jesus ; and on his knees he had become an heir of God and a joint-heir with Jesus to a heavenly inheritance. The Holy Spirit seemed to do His special office work in his heart in answer to his mother’s prayers, and perhaps the prayers of the Fulton Street Prayer Meeting. Subsequent days and weeks of acquaintance proved that this lost and ruined young man had really passed from death unto life.” Such prayer and faith as a mother knows how to exercise God will never disappoint. ' In his own time and way God wi.l reward her faith and answer her prayers. -u, mothers! mothers! never give up your children! Never leave off praying. ..ever —never! HENRY KIRKE WHITE, Born, 1785; Died, ISO 6. TO MY MOTHER. And eanst thou, mother, for a moment think, That we, thy children, when old age shall shed Its blanching honours on thy weary head, Could from our best of duties ever shrink? Sooner the sun from his bright sphere shall sink, Than we ungrateful leave thee in that day, To pine in solitude thy life away, Or shun thee tottering on the grave’s cold brink. Banish -the thought!—where’er our steps may roam O'er smiling plains, or wastes, without a tree, Still will fond memory point our hearts to thee, And paint the pleasures of thy peaceful home; While duty bids us all thv griefs assuage, And smooth the pillow of thy sinking age. The mother wi’ her needle an' her shears, Gars (makes) auld claes look amaist as weel’s the new. —Burns. A mother is a mother still The holiest thing alive. , —S. T. Coleridge. Where yet was ever found a mother Who’cl give her booby for another? —John Gay. Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught: leave her to heaven, And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge To prick and sting her. —Shakespeare. Milton writes : How gladly would I meet Mortality my sentence/and'be earth Insensible! how glad would lay me down As in my mother’s lap! Campbell sings: Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps, Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps; She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies, Smiles on her slumbering child with pensive eyes, And weaves a song of melancholy joy—- “ Sleep, image of thy father, sleep, my boy; No lingering hour of sorrow shall be thine; No sigh that rends thy father’s heart and mine; • Bright as his manly sire the son shall be In form and soul; but p.h! more blest than he! Thy fame, thy worth, thy filial love, at last, Shall soothe this aching heart for all the past— With many a smile my solitude repay. And chase the world's ungenerous scorn away.