The daily Green Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1861-1865, 1861-04-20
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Fer the Vermont Christian Messenger
Not Friendless.

is it then five years since your husbands
death, and have you, in the interval, provided
for yourself and your two children, unsssis-
ted If so, shall believe that teroines arc
not tabled characters, but that in my once
tiuid SCHOOL Innate, Mary Lee, to whom the
toll and contest Of life seemed, from aiar, SO
fearful. the martyr spirit has been developed
to the wonder and admiration of all wit
ncsses
My dear Madaline, you cannot judge
correctly of what have attempted and ac
compIishcd. You are surrounded by the
comforts and clegancios of Ii'e all your
wishes have been grat!fcd as soon as they
have en- expressed. 1t is no wonder thot
my upaided efforts seem Of such magnitude
to you. To the little | have performed,
| have been impeIIcd by affection. What
mother could behold her children dying in
her arms whsc she had strength to labor for
their support
Spoken like yourself. dear Mary. But
why the necessity for the toll which has
bowed your once delicate 70 IN, and changed
your blooming face so that scarcely vostlge
of the olden look remains Your father was
not poor. Why have you not followed him
to his Western home and been welcomed to
its abundance
Because he has nothing TO offer me-
Abundance fled from him, even as it deserted
me
Poor Mary! left without single friend
in this ~crld where the strong tranlpe upon
the weak and dcfcnceloss ! Daring the hap
Il py years which have fed leaving no impress
OF sorrow upon my heart, how the knowledge
of your mis!ortuues would have panied me!
| pray Heaven that you may feel no longer
the bitter pang Of being fricndlcss.
Again, Madaline, are you wrong
Fr;cnd!e $? Who is so that God has ere
ated? | have yet to explain the incidents
of the past, and you shall understand what
now to your mind seems vague and mysteri-
Gus. You say rightly that there was abun-
dance in my fathers house. | left il with
many regrets, but my heart was strong in its
love and confidence. My new abode was the
paradise Of my youthful dreams, and my no.
Bile Edward the angel that rendered it SO
beautiful Years passed away, and three
lovely children had been given us; and still
peace blooded like dove above our dwell
ing and we dreamed not of the hour. then
SO fcarully near, when it should take its
flight. Edward died, and at his grave left
all my weakness. How admirable is that
design of Providence by which sorrow, while
it crusheg. makes us strong. From the first
Overwhelming weight Of my grief imagined
| should never rise. Creditors were claim
ing the property for which poor Edward had
toiIcd, and which, had he been spared, would
soon have been his own. My father had Gu
gagged in ruinous speculation, and was even
thcu tusting the bitterness OF poverty
Would not death have been welcome in such
an hour oil grief and despair? Yes, but lor
those little hands ciinging to me for protec-
tion--but for the childish voices breathing in
my car that hal!owcd name mother Oh,
when did such tones ever appeal yanly to
maternal love?
became conscious tia! my own weak
arm mus; bear them above the threatening
bilIows Of lie. Hope and strength sprung
suddenly into my heart, as, with prophetic
eye, saw my babes orphaned anew, thrown
upon the cold charity of strangers, rhaps
upon the morcies of tho,e who delight in
cruelty and oppression. One glance reused
the mother within me, and | changed my