The Jeffersonian Democrat. [volume] (Chardon, Ohio) 1854-1865, 1864-07-08
Coming and Going,

Coming and Going.
Sunshine and shadow come and 90 al.
ternately, or with mingled influences,
checker the scenes Of life. The 6rst com
ing Of child into the household Is more
than the advent OF an angel. A divine
messenger might more surprise US, nigh,
play upon our wonder aud fear, or give
food for reflection by his message.
But child comes from as Mysterious
and strange land as the unknown sky.
Every day the little thing fills US with
questions and wonders Of thought. One
child is whols population. What 10 III
what will it become? how shall we rear
it? what is !, doing TO us and within us
These thoughts come and 60, in light and
shadow, in hope and fear, in gladness OF
sorrow. with FOOTBALLS as numerous as IL q
whole host, and not one little babe, were
the subject OF them. But OF the coming
Of these little ones. poets and parents have
written abundantly.
What about their going? When they
60 out to return no more, we believe that
the door Of the Fathers house has open
ed, and that they are safely at home
We weep; but it is not that they are gone
but that we are left. We weep, mo-
because they are inside Of the gate. bu
because we are on the outside, and the
door is shut.
But there are other goipgs besides these
upward and heavenly ones. Children
grow up. Nothing on earth grows as ias
as children. 1t was but yesterday, and
that lad was playing with tops, buoysnI
boy. He is a man and gone now His
foot is in the field. his hand upon the
sword. There is no more childhood for
him or for us. Life has claimed him.
When beginning is made it is like a
raveling stocking; stitch by stitch gives
way. ill all are gone. The house has NOT
child 10 it. There is no more noise 10
the hall. (boys rushing in pell NELL it is
very orderly now. There are no more
skates or sleds, bats, balls, or strings, left
scattered about. Things are neat enough
now. There is no delay Of breakfas fol
sleepy folks }; there 10 no longer any task
before you lie down Of looking after any
body. and tucking up the bed-clotbes.
There are no disputes to settle, nobody 20
get of to school, no complaints, NO i'm.
portuni.ies for impossible things. no rips
TO mend. no fingers to tie up, no faces to
be washed or collars to be arranged l.
There was never such peace in the house!
Ii would sound like music 10 have some
feet clatter down the front stairs o, for
some childrens' noise
VIVA. used to all US that we were hush-
ing their loud laugh; checking their moi
sy frolic; and reproving their slamming
and banging Of doors? We wish our
neighbors would only lend us an urcbn
or two TO make noise in these premises.
A house without children 1t is like a
lantern and no candle; a garden and no
flowers; a vine and no grapes a brook
with no water gurgling and rushing in its
channel. We want to be vexed, to be IT,
red, TO be run over, 10 hear child.life at
work with all its varieties.
During the secular days, this is enough
marked. 1t is Sunday. however, that
puts an American home TO proof. That
is the Chrisiia family day. The inter-
walls Of public worship are long spaces of
peace. The family seems made up on
that day. The children are at home.
You can lay your hand on their heads.
They seem 10 recognize the greater and
lesser love, to God and to friends. The
house is peaceful, but not still. There is
a low and melodious :rill Of children in it.
Sunday comes too still now. There is
too much room at the table, too mach at
the hearth. The bedrooms are world
too orderly. There is too much leisure
and too little care. Alas what mean
these things I Is somebody growing old?
Are these signs and tokens 2 Is life wa
ming
All summer long the great full breast
ed tree has covered its braLches by mum.
berless leaves, and whiried them in the
wind for music, and covered the little
binds from sight that sung or builded with
in. Il was green and strong, and musi-
cal. AT length a single leaf hangs in the
tree with a brilliant color. You look at
it and sigh. "It is the first that l have
seen this summer; there will now be more
SUCH" Tomorrow it falls. Others ri.
pen and follow. Ere long the tree grows
thin. Every wind lifts many Of them. and
hands them down TO the ground. Every
day there Is less sound in the tree every
day more Of rustling leaves along the fen
ces. At length, after rain. and windy
buffetipg, the tree holds out its barren
arms, and there are nowhere leaves up-
on them Wait, o tree There are buds
and leaves yet. Only between thee and
them is sleep-burial-resurreclion. Win
ter is come, and SO also is Spring coming!
II. W. Bsscher.
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