St. Mary's gazette., 1866-07-05
MY MoTnEKs GRAVE.


1850
Il was thirteen years since :ay mothcr'r
death, whey after hong absence from my
native villagn, | stood beside the sacred
n,und beneath which had seen her bu-
ried. Siuee that nioarntu. period, great
change had come over me My childish
years had passed away, and with them my
youthful character The world was alter
"a too, and as stood at my mothers
grave, could hardly realize that | was
the same ihoughilcsss, happy creature,
whose checks slsu ~ often kissed 10 nm ex-
csss of tenderness But the varied events
of thirteen years bad not eFiaced the re-
mcmbranco Of that mothers smiis. IL
seemed rs II | bad seen ipr tfui yesterday
-as IL the blessed sound ol her well re-
mcmborcl voice gas ia my ear TIe gay
drcams of my infancy and childhood were
lrnugh, back so distinctly 10 NY mind
that had il not been for Que bittir recdl-
lrciion. the tears | she'd would baye been
gentle aud refreshing Tho circumstance
may seem triiiing oue--but the thought
Of It pow pains my heart, aud ] rclate il.
that those children who haze parents u
love them, may l,ara 70 value them a
ibey ought.
Ms motler had been III long time, and
| had become so accustomed 70 her pale
face and weak voice, tha was not fright
ened at them, ss children usually are. -
At hrst, il is trnc, | sobbel violently; but
when, day after day, returned from
school and found her the same, J began
70 believe she would always be spared 20
mc;@ut they told me she would die
Onc day when hal lost ms place 10
tho class. aud done my work wrong side
outward, came home discouraged and
fretful; i went 10 mothers chamber --
She vas paier than usual, but she met me
with the same antc,inbaSo smile that all
ways welcomed my return. Alas when
l-look back through the lapse Of thirieco
years think ny heart must have been
stone, not 70 have meltel by il. She re-
questcd me to 70 down stairs and bring
hor glass of watcr, pettslily asked why
sAe did not call ln!.l.-lie 20 dpit With
loos of uitl req oaci which ] shall new
or forget If I've til am hundred years
Oh, she said. viii not my daughter
bring glass of water Ger her poor sick
mo.acg@
! went and brought her The water, bat
did not DO il kindly lnstcad of smiling
and kissing her. as | was won't to do, set
tae lass down very quickly a,d lcft the
rpom. After playing a short tiu,e, went
70 bel without bidding my mother good
night; but when alone 10 my room, in
darkness aud silence, I remembered how
pa.c she looked, and bow her voice trenl-
blcl when she said ''Will uet my daugh-
ter bring a glass Of water for her poor sick
mother ] couldn't sleep. I stole into
her chamber to ask forgiveness. She had
sunk into an easy slumber. and they told
nla must not waken her. did not tell
tny one wha; troubled me, but stole back
10 my bed, resolved to rise eurly IN the
morning and tell Der how sorry | was for
my conduct
The sun was shining brightly when ]
awoke. and hurrying on my clothes, / la
tened 70 my mothots chamber She was
dead. she never spoke moro~-never suliled
upon inc again---and when touched the
hand that used to rost upon my head ia
blsssiag il was 50 cold that it made me
start. / bowed downed by h side. aud
sobbcd in the bitterness of my heart, /
thought then wished might die, and
be bu,ied sith her; and old as now am,
| would give worlds we're they mine to
give. could my mother but haze lived to
tell me she !orgaye my childish ingrstitude.
But cannot call her back aud when ]
stand by her grave, aud Whenever | think
Of her manifold kindness. tho memory Of
that rcproach!ul look she gave me, will
bitO like serpent and sting like an adj
der.