The Opelousas journal. [volume] (Opelousas, La.) 1868-1878, 1873-04-05
What is Trouble?

A company Of Southern ladies were
one day assembled in a 1ady's paTlOr,
when the conversation CHANGED to turn
on a subject of earthly aff1ictiOn. Each
had her story of peculiar trial and
bereavement to relate, except one pale,
sad-loolling woman, whose 1ustreless
eye and detected air showed that she
was prey to the deepest melancholy.
Suddenly arousing herself, she said, III
n hollow voice, % Not one OF you know
what trouble is"
"Will you please, Mrs. Gray said
the kind voice Of a lady who well knew
her story, tell the ladies what you call
trouble p
II viii, if you desire it," she replied,
d" for | have seen it. My parents
possessed a competence and my girl
hood was surrounded by all the comforts
of life. seldom knew an ungratitied
wish, and was always gay and light
hearted. I married at nineteen, one l
loved more than all the world besides.
Our home was retired, but the sun
never shOne on a lOvelier one or hap
pier household. Years rolled on peace
fully. Five children sat around our
table, and a little curly head still nestled
| in INV bosom. One night about sun
down one of those black storms came on
| which are so common to our. Southern
climate. For many hours the rain
! poured down incessantly. Morning
| dawned, but still the elements ragged.
The whole Savannah seemed atioat.
! The little stream near our dwelling
became raging torrent. Before we
were aware of it our house was sur
rounded by water. | managed with
my baby to reach little elevated spot
on which a few wide-spreadlng trees
were standing, whose dense foliage
afforded some protection, while my
husband and sons strove to save, what
they could of our property. At last {
fearful surge swept away my husband
and he never rose again. Ladies, liz
one ever loved husband more, but tha
was not trouble.
y presently my sons saw their danger
and the struggle for life became tn
only consideration. They were a.
brave, loving boys as ever blessed
mothers heart, and [ watched thei
efforts to escape with such agony a
! only mothers can feel. They were S.
far off could not speak to them, but
cOnld see them closing nearer and near
er to each other as their little islam
i grew smaller. -,
/ huge trees; dead branches, upturne
trunks, wrecks Of houses, drovnn
| cattle, masses Of rubbish, all went tioat
ING past us. My boys waved their hand
to me, then pointed upward. | knew
, was a farewell signal, and you, mother
: can imagine nay anguish. | saw thel
. ali perish, and yet-that was NJ
, trouble. ,.-.:-.., ,.., s.---.o...
and when the water rose to, my feeG
climbed into the low branches OF u
y tree, and so Kept retiring before II, .
all powerful Hand stayed the wave
that they should come, no further.
was saved. All my worldly possession M
were swept away, all my eartnly hIop
NV baby was all | had left on cart
lab6red night and day to support hi
and myself, and sought to train him
= fhe right way; but as he grew old
evil companions won him away fro
home. He ceased to care for his mother
Il cnnnse1s: he would sneeT at her e
treaties and agonizing prayers. !
left nv humble roof that he might
= unresfrained in the pursuit OF evil, al
Il at last. when heated by wine one mig
he took the life of a fellow being, al
:" andad his own upon the scatfOld. 4
heavenly Father had filled my cup
- sorroW before; now it ran over. II
vas trouble, ladies, such as hope t
mercy will save you from ever experle
There was not dry eye among b
lHsteners. and the warmest sympat
was exnressed for the bereaved moth
whose sad history had taught them
z tuseflll lesson. Baltimor1ari'