The prison mirror. [volume] (Stillwater, Minn.) 1887-1894, 1889-08-01
Light in the Darkness.

There stands building not thousand
severe aspect never fails to inspire the chill
dren in its neighbOrhOod with awe and
dread. 1t has high. barred windows, and
the door leading into its interior is made of
cupant and whenever stood by the Win
dow looking out, l noticed that all who
saw me either cast down their eyes or re-
garded me with contempt and hate.
But as we sow. so must we reap. For
many years had sown my wild oats with
a reckless hand, and the time to harvest
them had come. Never before had liberty
seemed so sweet as when / saw the trees
begin to bud and inhaled the scent from
their blossoms; never so dear as when
caught glimpse of some children playing
i'm the distance. Their merry shouts were
borne to me on the evening breeze, and
what memories Of happy, by-gone days did
they not awaken within me; what pangS OF
remOrSe did they not create IN my heart, as
[ thought Of home, parents, brothers and
sister. Deeply. oh. deeply did | regret my
heedlessness and as l sat there with un-
kempt hair and beard, despair entered my
heart, the very bars vanished. and l was
lost in impenetrable darkness.
Did l say impenetrable? L did not mean
it so, for one day little sunbeam came
through the bars twined itself around my
heart and kindled anew the smoldering EN-
bers of hope. There are many kinds of
sunbeams; this sunbeam came in the form
of little child. She peered through the
gloom, and as she saw me at first, recOiled.
But she took courage. and her face was
suffused with sympathy. Compassion had
got the upper hand of disgust, and she
whispered to me the simple question, SO
familiar to little children. ''Do you love
Jesus?r Those four words brought me
back with the speed of electricity to the
time of twenty years ago, when lisped a
prayer to Him. [ was silent. What an
swer could | give? Since that time my
views on that subjct had changed, and
many times had l openly denied His exist
ence. But my silence did not discourage
her. She told me of angels and of heaven,
of Him that came to save us, you and me,
tOO,'' she said. from sin and death, in a
language so simple. so believing, and so
earnest, that, as | listened, drew COM
parison between her and me. Like a
white lily growing on the edge OF Dlack
pool makes the blackness more dense, so L
appeared hundredfOld darker in compar-
isOn with her. 1 could not bear it, and left
her in silence threw myself on the rude
cot and wept bitter, bitter tears of remOrse
and shame-the first tears had shed since
left home.
Dear reader, you may smile at my calling
her sunbeam, who instead of bringing
light only made the darkness more intense,
and caused tears instead Of merriment.
True: but she did not stop there. She
spent much of her time in gathering flow
ers for me, instead of playing with other
| friends; she came daily to my window to
give me words of hope and announcement,
made me feel that though others despised
me she did not. Can you picture to YOUR
self the struggle within that little breast be-
tween disgust and sympathy, between
scorn and compassion. between bate and
love? How sympathy, compassion and
love slowly gained the victory: victory
that wins the admiration of others and
makes angels sing of joy. All, little one
you have displayed the purity and noble