The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1881-10-22
who laid its foundation, built its walls and kim
died the grateful fire upon its hearth-stone
| l..

One day there comes a time when the blinds are
drawn again, the lights made dim, and when ST.
! lence sits broodng in every nook and corner OF
home
Strange solemn events are transporting within.
What can be happening that keeps everything so
quiet? Through I'll the night one particular
lamp burns on with a faint radiance, and in the
morning knot of white ribbon at the door tells
the mournful story.
All how that mute simple emblem beckons to
the hearts of men and women passing by; and
children too feel throb of pity as they behold
it, for they comprehend full well its sorrowful
meaning. They read it as readily as though it
were an open book.
A little child has died; a soul taken its flight;
alittle form reposes calm pale teless, in the very
room where first the eyes, now closed forever, saw
the light of home A sweet flower has persisted ;
a tender birding has departed from the family
nest; a golden strand has been rudey broken in
twain, and the harp of home is silent.
"Only a little child" No funeral pomp, no toll
ing bell yet death has entered into Paradise. A
new grave is to be opened; once living, human
form is soon to be laid therein to rest underneath
the freshly-rounded earth But it is "only little
child " that has died. What does it matter?
'Only little child" And yet somebody's
hearts have been made to ache with a pain no
physicians art can alleviate; somebody's tears
have been caused to flow somebody's home has
been rendered desolate by the loss of that little
one "OnIy little child " has been taken, it is
true, but with the little form will be carried away
to the tomb somebody's darling.
no Will of
bright sunny ringlets has not for long nestled in
its mothers breast; the tiny fingers may not have
long wandered over the soft, white pillows where
on the delicately- tinted velvety cheeks were wont
to rest; the deep blue eyes may have scarcely
learned the look of love in all its fullness; but
ah that little head was such sweet burden rest
ing upon the mothers heart; those little rosy
tipped fingers such precious tendrils entwin-
ing themselves so gently yet irresistibly about
the motherly affections; those eyes, so clear and
so as they gazed into the mo-
theirs face with a look of perfect trust-now they
are gone. The little head no longer pillows itself
upon the maternal BOSOM "Only little child"
But alb, We careless ones-ye who have never
sounded the depths that lie below all ordinary
love and feeling-lo0k for a moment upon the
silent form it is hidden from the gaze Of those
who loved it well and tenderly and cared for it
Approach, We thoughtless ones! Behold what
marvel death hath wrought!
The hands clear and white and cold, like Par
an marble, are folded above pulseless heart;
he once busy fingers and the restless feet are
luiet now, and the dawning light of love no Ion
yer shines from out the liquid eyes. No more
ullabys, no more anxious watchings, no more
moments of supremest joy, as with laughing eyes
cooking each into the others, mother and child
meet in fond embrace. All these are past There
les the little One-the mothers darling-dead.
Flowers nestle amid the golden ringlets which
nave been brushed gently back from the pale, !
old forehead by the hand of love; flowers softly
est above the silent heart; flowers, sweet flow |
rs, blossom in the nerveess hands; but yet it is
only little child lying thus so strangely calm
md silent" only little child" whose spirit has
,een reclaimed by Him who gave it. Why do |
you weep? The book Of its young life, thus early
:losed bears not a single stain. The pages where
IN, possibly, had it been otherwise decreed the |
ares and disappOintments and sins of the world |
might have been written, are pure and white !
This much we know.
See the mother as she bends above the sleeper |
last fond kiss upon the clay-cold lips: one long
lingering gaZe-it is the last-upon the precious |
orm; and then the fearful journey to the tomb
md sad return. The mother, desolate in heart |
its in her lonely home with naught but bro
Ken toy, a dainty frock, a half-worn shoe, mayhap
lock of hair, and the sweet, tender picture mem
Try paints upon her Utmost SOUL to tell her of her
larling
Other children she has who flock around her. |
Ter husband casts the strong arm of his manly |
pirit about her heart, but the place in her affec
ions made vacant when baby" died can never |
more be filled There is the shadow of presence
,ver near her which is to follow her through life |
the shadow of little child. "Only little
hid upon the earth, but up yonder, oh, how
much OF love and God and Heaven can that little
me teach the mother when they meet again
Only a little child" but it is written, of such
re the kingdom of Heaven"
The first death in the family circle is a sad
vent-One long to be sorrowed over; one never
0 be forgotten. It is the second great epoch
ound in the history of home
From it the time is counted 1t was in the
ear baby died. signs the mother. "The spring
efOre baby was taken from us we were so happy"
nurmurs, the father "Just after baby died
randma came to see US" the children say; and