The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 5 December 1918, Page 45

The Family Circle

“WHEN I HAVE TIME.” “When I have time, so many things I'll do To make life happier and more fair For those whose lives are crowded now with care I 11 help to lift them from their low despair When I have time !” “When I have time, the friend I love so well Shall know no more these weary toiling days • I’ll lead her feet in pleasant paths always, And cheer her heart with words of sweetest praise When I have time !” When you have time, the friend you hold so dear May be beyond the reach of all your sweet intent ; May never know that you so kindly meant To fill her heart with sweet content— When you had time ! Now is the time ! Ah, friend, no longer wait To scatter loving smiles and words of cheer To those around, whose lives are now so dear; They may not heed yon in the coming year— ’ Now is the time! ANGELS AND THEIR MINISTRIES. _ Whoso reads the story of angel ministries in the Scriptures shall find therein consolation and guidance. We shall hearken to the first poet of the angels—the Shepherd King of Israel—and strive to follow the golden stream which he set afloat, down through the ages into all the literatures of the world, finding the light print of angels’ feet on many a desultory, darkened page, hearing above discordant noises the distant flutter of their wings, and knowing for theirs the light that bids us pause on some fair and fugitive line. Angels and their ministries have enriched and beautified literature; they have illuminated the best in art; they have purified the spirit of music, made song more sweet, and ethereal presences have brightened some of the blackest and most tragic moments in the world’s history. They have lifted for us the wings of hope, and from the dungeon of our sin-imprisoned souls have loosened and set free those heavenimplanted aspirations which it is their most cherished joy to bear back to Him who gave them. Angels brood softly over the babe in its basket, guide the indecisive steps of childhood, and spread their bright wings over the innocent and the unwary. They watch with those who mourn, weep over the hardened sinner, and wrestle with the forces of evil. They are with us in life, and in death they do not desert us, contending with the powers of darkness for the sinking spirit. ' They are the ministers of judgment, leading the emancipated to the realms of the blest, or if purgatory is its portion, going down with it into that darkened region to cheer it®. fla gg in g hopes with visions of what it will one day enjoy in heaven. Then, when purged of all stain, the soul is ready lor the beatific vision, it is its Guardian Angel, radiant and joyous, who proudly conducts it into the presence of the redeemed. The world has grown dark in these our later years ; with desolation is all the land made desolate. War clouds envelop unhappy lands, even our own, and Azrael, the Angel of Death, has spread his sable wino S Ger many a grisly battle ground. Wherever we turn mans hand is raised against his brother, and the wail ° f l hWl m°- We i d ?? fatherless > the maimed, the broken, and the blind, is heard above the careless laughter of a too careless world. But those to whom the ministry of angels is still the mercy of God made manifest are lain to believe that in the midst of all this misery somewhere Jacobs of to-day are slumbering in fitful D r dd raS ’i their t aZ l led eyes held h y that shimmering ladder down which, as of old, angels come, bearing balm for the stricken, strength for the weak, and the

light of heaven itself for those, ■ high of heart and dauntless of soul, who fall in our country’s cause.—— Helen Moriarty, in the October Catholic World. - • THE PRIEST. We recognise the priest as one chosen from among men to serve men in the affairs of God. He is the minister of reconciliation with God, the teacher of the truth, the one who offers the Sacrifice, who administers the Sacraments, who prays for the people. We distinguish in him that double ’character of man and priest; we recognise his tendency to human frailty, but we also recognise the divine character of the priesthood which foices us to bend the knee to him for the-forgive-ness of sins and to receive from his hands the Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist. His ordination has conferred upon the man the character of the priesthood of Jesus Christ. In the parish he is the ambassador of God, the administrator of the Sacraments, the guardian of the sacred deposits of faith, the defender of the people s rights, and the unselfish friend of everyone. From the cradle to the grave he touches intimately the lives of his people and brings to them in all the circumstances of life the blessings of the Divine Saviour, of whom he is the commissioned minister.: I he people feel that in the true priest there is no taint of selfishness, and that he is willing to sacrifice his life in order that the. spiritual interests of his people may not suffer.—Bishop Conaty. SWEET TIPPERARY. Ah, sweet is Tipperary in the springtime of the year. When the hawthorn’s whiter than the snow ; When the feather folk assemble and the air is all atremble With their singing and their winging to and fro; When queenly Slieve-na-mon puts her verdant vesture oil, And smiles to hear the news the breezes bring; When the sun begins to glance on the rivulets that dance—• Ah, sweet is Tipperary in the spring. Dennis A. McCarthy. FOOTING IT. Jimson lived at Highgate, and owned a flock of carrier pigeons of which he was immensely proud. His pride led to such continued boasting that it bored his friends. One of these friends, Tom Smith by name, told him one day I’m willing to bet you a fiver that I can take one of your blooming pigeons up there and turn it loose and you will never see it again.” The bet was made, and Tom Smith, having arrived within two miles of Carlisle, clipped the pigeon’s wings and threw the helpless bird out of the window. A fortnight later he returned to Highgate and asked Jimson for the five-pound note. “You haven’t won it,’’ remonstrated Jimson, who guessed the trick that had been played. “That pigeon came home.” “He did!” exclaimed Tom, thoroughly incredulous. “Yes,” replied Jimson. “But, my word, his feet were sore ! • j ~ THOSE HELPFUL OFFICIALS. The town man told the farmer man—- “ Your duty’s plain—raise all you can. To beat the far-flung German foe you needs must plant and reap and sow. Bend to your task with zeal and haste. Don’t let an acre go to waste. To win the European fight just spade all day and hoe all night!” “Quite so,” the honest farmer said. “At halfpast three I leave my bed. The horrid sound of war’s alarm has made me tackle this old farm, and raise the dickens without stops, besides my ordinary crops. And

Til be true unto my trust, and raise a bumper crap or bust. But here I pause in my hard task to bow my head and humbly ask: ‘What have you, gents, with all your prate, done for us farmers up to date V ” The town man threw his hands on high, then pulled them down to loudly cry—- “ Ungrateful agriculturist, by cold rains soaked and hot winds kissed, do you not know that we are through when we have told you what to do?” JUST A DIVERSION. An old negro, whose sole means of livelihood was fishing, one afternoon baited his hook and patiently sat on the bank of the stream waiting for a “bite/’ The great heat and the slowness of the game proved too much for him, and he fell asleep. While he slept an extraordinarily big fish took the bait and pulled so that the old fellow, half awake and in a stupefied state, fell into the stream. “Snakes alive!’’ he exclaimed as he floundered about in the water ; “am dis yer nigger a-fishin’, or am dis fish a-niggerin’ ?” SMILE RAISERS. “I saw your mother going to one of the neighbors as I crossed the street,” said the lady caller to her friend’s little son. “Do you know When she will be back ?” “Yes, ’m,” answered the truthful Jimmy, “she said she’d be back just as soon as you left.” Old Lady; “Here’s a penny, ray poor man. Tell me, how did you become so destitute?’’ Beggar: “I was always like you, mum, a-givin’ away vast sums ter the pore an’ needy.” The other day Teddy’s father wanted to give him a a dose of castor oil concealed in raspberry jam. But the boy refused the delicious-looking spoonful suspiciously. “Why,” said his father, “have you taken such a sudden dislike to your favorite jam?" “Because it’s mined!” answered Teddy. Inspector: “Can any boy tell me what bird Noah let out- of the ark ?” The smallest boy in the class: “Please, sir, a dove.” The inspector expressed his surprise that only the smallest boy in the class knew the answer. “But, please, sir,” replied one of the pupils, “his father keeps a bird shop.” - The American soldier had arrived in England, and was describing his trip. “Talk about sea-sickness,” he said. “I never saw anyone suffer like my pal, Sam. I tried every remedy I could think of without avail. At last I said in despair, ‘Can’t you keep anything oifc, your stomach, Sam?’ ‘Only my hands, George,' he groaned, ‘only my hands.’ ” An officer of the R.A.F. was being driven home in a hansom, the driver of which was very loquacious, and kept raising the flap, making such remarks as, “That’s a fuxxxxy-looking cloud, sir, over there!” or “Ah, we’s got the Hun airmen seized up now!” At each remark the horse would stop dead. “That’s the worst of him, sir," muttered the driver; “whenever I henters into conversation with my customer, he thinks as how he ought to stop and listen.”