The prison mirror. [volume] (Stillwater, Minn.) 1887-1894, 1890-10-02
The Broken Vase.
"The ills we see.

The Broken Vase.
''The ills we see.
The mysteries of sorrow deep and long.
The dark enigmas of permitted wrong,
Have all one key:
This strange sad world is but our Fathers School;
All chance and change His love shall grandly
over -rule.'
few mornings ago as passed the cell of very
particular friend of mine, found him standing
at the door bowed down with grief. At his feet
lay few pieces Of broken chinaware, and as he
raised his eyes and wished me very good morn
ing he said, "A sad calamity has befallen me; my
dear little vase-dear to me for the many happy
recolections it recalls-met with an accident and
got broken beyond repair" While extended to
him my sympathy-the sweet music of the soul,
that ever rolls like shining river-I could
not but consider how mysteriously the Hand of
Providence at all times and at all places to
our spiritual and temporal comfort. The "broken
vase was but to remind my friend of the kindly
act that placed it in the little corner of his cell
and from time to time refreshed it with sweet
seeming flowers. to cheer him in his lonely
ments, and to remind him that his present sor.
are but the rays of the hidden sun to shine
tomorrow. The sorrow which followed the ''ca.
lamity,'a he termed it, but temporary, while
the fond recollections which it recalled. lived to
cheer him in his daily toll, to brighten up his
darkened pathway of life and to make him feel
gladstone in the thought that though degraded he
was not forgotten. How few there the
busy highway of life who will stop for moment
to consider the goodthat flows eternally from one
kind act
IA kindly act is a kernel sown.
That will grow to a goOdly tree,
Shedding its fruit when time has flown
Down the gulf of Eternity
How life-like also is the broken treasure of my
friend to the lives of the most of us within these
walls.
Let each of us go back in spirit for moment or
two to the old home we left behind us many years
ago in sorrow and in tears There is the dear
mother who from early dawn to midnight is toll
ing for your comfort she is the first to greet your
Weakening hours, the last to bid you good night,
and as with loving care she tucks the clothes
around you she begs God to bless your sleeping
hours. Awake in the night you are frightened;
"who's there?' Hush darling! it's only me "Your
mother not content with caring and toilng for you
in the MONDAY must entwine around you the
ivy of her night-watch devotion. You are her
precious vase, the flowers of which she daily
refreshes with the waters of her undying love-
At length she drops beneath the weight of her
long continued vigilance for you and while her
gentle spirit with the setting sun calmly passes
away she leaves you heritage of love which no
human heart can ever equal. Can any one of us
say that we have been worthy of this priceless
treasure? Unfortunately, no! We have forgotten
the blessings and favors of the past. permitted
ourselves to be tossed and turned around upon
the shelves by every purchaser at the worlds
mart. and to-day find ourselves an injured ware
at whose loss. perhaps.o perhaps not some chris.
tian friend may heave sigh. But what a vast
difference exists between the two injured orna.
ments. The one is irreparable, the other needs
but little careful and earnest decoration to make
it sparkle of yore. In its fall it did not crash
upon the hardened granite of despair it fell
within the moss covered Enclosure of Gods love
for all His creatures. Let US then without delay
hasten to repair the little mishap of that imme-
diate past which was the cause of our unhappy
presents let our Chautauqua circle be our studio
and let us adorn our lives with such decorative
and appreciative colors will cause the exam.
liners they pass to stop and pronounce our labor
a work of art.
"a sin Of youth. atoned for and forgiven
Takes on virtue, if we choose IT, find:
When clouds across our onward path driven,
We still may steer by its pale light behind.
A sin forgotten is in part to pay for,
sin remembered is a constant gain:
Sorrow. next JOY, is what we ought to pray for
AS next to peace we profit most from pain"
INNISFALLEN.
You and L.
You and l, gentle reader are two people
who are small potatoes and few in the hill.
We started out in the spring time of our
youth to conquer the world in one way or