I drew my arms
around her, and she laid her head against me and sobbed three or
four times, while the tears ran down and dropped upon the floor. 'It
is well with her!' I said.
"'Oh, yes, my friend, it is well with her,' she answered,
mournfully, 'well with her, but not with me. How shall I walk onward
in life's difficult ways, without my mother's arm to lean upon? My
steps already hesitate.'
"'You have another arm to lean upon,' I ventured to suggest.
"'Yes, a strong arm upon which I can lean in unfaltering trust. In
this God has been good to me. But my wise, patient mother--how shall
I live without her?'
"'She is only removed from you as to bodily presence,' said I. 'Love
conjoins your souls as intimately as ever.'
"'Ah, yes, I know this must be. Too many times have I heard that
comforting truth from her lips ever to forget it. But while we are
in the body, the mind will not rest satisfied with any thing less
than bodily presence.'
"I did not press the point, for I knew that in all sorrow the heart
is its own best comforter, and gathers for itself themes of
consolation that even the nearest friend would fail to suggest.
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