Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1844-11-22
THE FIRE-STDE.
The Tree that never Fades.

II was one of those bright days in autumn, when
the sky was clear and blue. and the water sho0e
with the sparkling beams of the radiant sum-
George and Mary had gone into their llttle gar
dem long before the bright dew had been brushea
from the few flowers it had been their summer
ioy 10 cultivate. The scattered leaves OF tue rlch
mdsummer's rose lay all around in the little paths
their own hands had made. There was tree III
the centre of the garden, which had been the pride
of all other trees. Its overhangng branches had
shaded the tender plants, when the blazing sun Oh
summer would have closed up and faded their IRA
grant buds, and at evening the wnd whispering
among its leaves made mysterious music, when
had cheered them many time after their garden
inc labors were over Bearer to them than the
lofest of the forest was that little tree every eai
of which thew had watched and welcomed, ana
whose Young branches they had often shaken, after
the summers rain, that it might shed on inc now
ers beneath the glitering rainbow drops No"'
for the first time they noticed that lis glossy leaves
were fading and their gladstone voices were
hushed. IN
MARY said George, next summer l will not
have garden. Our pretty tree is dying, and !
won't love another tree as long as live. Will
have a bird next summer, and that VIII stay all
winter
George, don't you remember my beautiful can
arv bird, and it died in the middle of the summer,
and we planted bright flowers in the ground where
we buried it? MY bird did not live so long as the
tree"
well, don't see as we can love any thing
Little brother died before the bird, and loved
him better than any bird, or tree, OF flower On,
wish we could have something to love that would
not de-
George, let us 60 into the house. don't want
to look at our tree any longer
The dav passed. During the school hours,
George ard Mary had almost forgotten that their
tree was dyng but at evening, as they drew their
chairs to the table where their mother was sitting,
and began to arrange the seeds they had been from
day to day gathering, the remembrance OF their
tree came upon them.
Mother said Mary, you may give these seeds
to cousin John; never want another garden
YES added George, pushing the papers he had
carefully been folding ups toward his mother, you
may give them all away. If could Ind some seeds
of tree that would never fade, should love to
have garden. wonder if there ever was such
garden mother"
YES George, have read of a garden where
the trees never die
"A real garden, mother!
YES my son. In the middle of the garden,
have been told, there runs pure river of water,
clear as chrystsl, and on each side of the river is
the tree of life-a tree that never fades
Mother asked Mary, can't George and go
there? | wish little brother could go there too
'Your brother, Mary, is there, and when the
gardener calls TOu1 ii you are Ieduy3 yOu CdII ~
there TOO. That garden is Heaven. There you
may love, and love forever. There will be no
death-no fading there. Let your treasure be the
tree oflfe, and you will have something to which
your young hearts can cling, without fear, without
disappointment. Love the Saviour here, and he
will prepare you to dwell in those green pastures
and beside those still waters.
Mother, how can we love what we dc INT seer
Il cannot tell you; but Jesus will he your teach
err Ask him. If you really want to know, he
will be your guide Now, good right, and o, may
Jesus love be fountain within your hearts, and
spring up into everlasting life
The next morning George and Mary went again
to their tree. The leaves were more faded, and
one or two were quite yellow. Resting on one of
the little branches they saw folded paper
George opened it. These lines were writen:-
Pretty tree with glossy leaves,
Stirring in the gentle breeze,
How can we tell
The fount of love we've given thee;
But thou art fading, pretty tree,
So now-farewe
Thy leaves around US now are spread,
And soon they'll every one be dead,-
Oh, quick decay!
Then, wherefore should we cling to thee,
Since thou must die, 0 pretty tree,
And canst not stay?
There is tree that we can love,
Blooming by chrystal streams above,
Beyond the sky.
The tree of life is ever bright,
Radiant with heavens eternal light,
1t cannot die
And we'll no longer cling to thee,
Birds, and flowers, and pretty tree,
For sad and strange
Ofevery thing meath summer skies,