The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1844-12-16
Youths Department,
THE TREE THAT NEVER FADES,

II was one of those bright days in autumn, when
ths sky was clear and blue, and the waters shone
with the sparkling beams of the radiant sur, George
and Mary had gone into their little gnrdon long be-
fore tho bright dew had been brushed from the few
flowers ii had been their summers joy to cultivate
The scattered leaves Of the rich midsummer's rose
lay NIL around in the little paths their hands had
made There was tree in the centre ofthe garden
which had been the pride Of all other treea Its ov'
erhunging branches had shaded tho tender plants
when the blazing sun of summer wonld have closed
~ and faded thcr fragrant buds, and at evening the
wind whispering among its leaves, made nys'erl-
o,s music, which had cheered them many time Of
Ter their garden lnbors were over. Doarer to them
than the oipst of the forest was that little tree ev.
cry leaf of which they had watched and welcomed
and whose young branches they had often shaken,
sitter the summers rain, that it might shed on the
flowers beneath the gttering rainbow drops. Now
for the first time, they noticed that its glossy leaves
were fading and their gladstone voices were hushed.
"Iary," said George, "neXt summer will not
have garden. Our pretty tree is dying, and won't
love another roo as long ms I've, sill have bird
next summer, and that will stay all winter"
George don't YOU remember my beautiful canary
bird and it died in the middle of the summer, and
We planted bright flowers in tho ground where we
buried it? My bird did not live so long as tho tree"
"Well, I don't see ms we cdn love anything. Lit
,o brother died before the Bird and loved him bet
ter than any bird, or tree, or flower Oh, wish we
could have something to love that would not die"
George let us 90 into the house. don't want
TO look at tree any longer"
The day passed. During the school hours, George
and Mary had almost forgotten their dying tree; but
ut evening, as they drew their chairs to the table
where their mother sitting, and began to arrange
The seeds they had been from day. 10 day gathering
the remembrance ofther treo came upon them
"Moher," said Mary, "you may give these seeds
10 cousin John: never want another garden"
eyes," added George, pushing the papers in
which he had carefully folded them, towards his
mother, "you may give them all away. III could
find some seeds of tree that would never fade, |
should love to have gardcn.-I wonder if there ey-
er was such garden, mothcr'"
ayes, George, have read of garden whcro tho
trees never de-
"A real garden, mother'"
Eyes, my son. In the middle Of the garden,
have been tod, there runs puro river Of water
clear crystal each side of the river is The tree
ofRCe,-a tree that never fades"
there? | wish little brother could 90 there too''
your BROTHER Mary, is there, and when the gar
dener calls you, if you ready you may 60 there
too. That garden is hcarcn, There you mny love,
and love rOrever;-There will be death, fad.
ing there. Let your treasure be the tree of life, and
you will have something to which your young hearts
can cling, without fear, without disappointment
Love the Savior here, aud he will prepare you 10
=. H.,
waters"
''Mother, how we love what We dOu't seer"
al cannot tell you; but Jesus will be your tencher.
Ask him. If you really want to know, he will be
your guide Now good night, and o. may Jesus
love be a fountain within your hearts, springing uF
to eternal life"
The next morning, George and Mary went again
to the tree. The leaves were more faded, and one
or two were quite yellow Resting on of the lit.
tie branches, they a folded paper. George open
ed and read it'-These lines were written:
''Pretty tree with glossy leaves,
Stirring in the gentle breeze,
How we tell
The fount Of love we've given thee;
But thou art fading, pretty troe.
So now,-farewell.
Thy leaves around spread,
And soon they'll every one be dead
Oh quick decay
Them wherefore should we cling to thee,
Since thou must die pretty tree,
And canst not stay!
There il a tree that love,
Blooming by crystal streams above,
Beyond the sky.
The Tree Of life is bright,
Radiant with euven's eternal light,
1t cannot die.
And we'll no longer cling to thee,
Birds, and flowers, and pretty tree,
For sad and strange,
OF every thing meath summers skies,
That in ear,h's fading beauty lies,
The thought of change