SUNLIGHT AT LAST.

Patea Mail, Volume II, Issue 149, 13 September 1876, Page 2

SUNLIGHT AT LAST.

Why did tlus--wom.au live ? Had life one cliarm for her ? Perhaps she asked herself these questions as she sat with her lace in her hands, and looked out upon the cold, cheerless, day. There were no tears in her great black eyes only such a look of woo and despair that the world should have been there to sec it and have it painted on their hearts. “Mother!” A little wasted form on the wretched bed—a bony hand on the ragged quilt—a voice which told of hunger and pain and weary waiting. She bent over him, and for 4 a moment a mother’s love shorie in her eyes, and her wrinkled' hand rested on his pale face with such tenderness as only a mother has; “ Lift me up and let me see the sunshine,” he whispered, trying to put his arms around her neck. “ There is no sunshine/’ she whispered in replv, a sob in her thi’oat. “ Kiss me, mother, and call me when the sunlight comes again,” he said. She knew that he had been dying for a week—Sinking slowly and surely into eternity, but she had rid frierids to call in—she could only weep over him and pray God that she might soon follow. With a gasp and a sob she pressed her lips to his forehead, then turned rtway to struggle with her dispair and great sorrow. The cloudy, cheerless day faded into dusk. She roused herself for a moment and peered through the gloom to see if her boy still'slept and then she whispered With her thoughts again. And such thoughts! When tire darkness covered the bare floor as with a mantle, and when she could no loriger see her own poverty, the boy snddcri'ly called out: “Mother! mother! The sunlight has come !” , “ Not yet, dear Ned—not yet! It is night now.” “ But I see the snri—it lights all the room—it blazes into my face!” he called. “ There is no sun—it is , cold and dark!” she sobbed. ‘ . “ And it grows .brighter arid I hear sitch sweet music ! and I see little Tommy ! ’ he whispered, while through the darkness she saw his white face grow radiant. ■ • . •‘You arc dreaming!” she sobbed. “ It was a bright snri ! The music is so sweet!” he whispered, clasping her hand. ■ ■ “It is dark—-it is riight!” she gasped, but, ho did riot hear. The sunlight'had'truly come, but it was the sunlight—the golden rays reflected from the gates of Heaven—and not the sunlight of earth. The mysterious curtain hiding the. valley of death had lifted for his spirit to pass under, and woo had been left behind., . And of her ? Ask the shadows of night—ask the river,. When they found his little dead body she' Was not there. They cannot And her. .If she is dead God did not . judge her harshly.— “ Detroit Free Press.”