Birmingham age-herald., 1894-08-15
SOCIETY.
[All items of social interest will be gladly noted in tbis column If sent to Mrs. George c. Ball, 21S1 Highland avenue.

of Bethany were bloom in the beautiful | Judean country, upon whose green hill- sides and fertile plains holy men did live | and teach the doctrines of a Christianity which has grown in power as the centuries | have passed, there came to Christ woman having an alabaster box of ointment, "spikenard, and very precious. With | this she did anoint our blessed Lord, ard | the gentle breezes of Palestine have waited unto the utteFmost parts of the earth the fragrance of the deed. Wherever the gos- 1 pei has been preached it has been told of | her for memorial.
 | Now, in theee later times, when the world has grown old, but fuller than ever | of enticing beauty. another woman, one l who has gone in and out among us in the fullnesS of radiant youth and brilliant 1 genius, has carried to her Lord box of precious things and will henceforth live to | minister in love and faith to suffering, | needy humanity. The box of ointment l she offered was richer, sweeter than that of the woman of Bethany, for it held the hopes, ambitions and genius of rarely l gifted woman, all of which she dedicates | to His service. Today, at Loretto, that beautiful place in Kentucky, made sacred by the lives of holy women, Margaret E. | O'Brien will receive the white veil, which symbolizes her marriage to the church and | the putting behind her of all former | things. This day, August 15, 1894, this lovely girl, with everything about her to make life worth the living, with endow- ments Of mental character rarely equaled in one so young, with admiring friends loving her panionship, and with | family ties of the tenderest nature, enters upon another and higher existence. She gives to her church | her life and all that the future may hold. She had climbed the steep pathways I that go up the mountain of success and Il from the sunlit suminits she looked over into the Promised Land. The fogs and mists were beneath her, and she stood in \ the golden glory of brilliant achievement, 4 while ths plaudits of men and women 4 reached her happy ears. But all these ! things she counted as naught, for her I soul craved another and loft1er existence, and from this time sweet Maggie o'Brien5 4 always Maggie to me, who greatly loved 4 and admired her-wili be known as Sister Il Margaret Marie among those pure women who have given up all for Christ. Seven I other young girls take the white veil with I her, and five novices make their vows on I this day. For two years she wears the | white veil, after which she will make her l first VOWS and assume the black veil. She 1 is very happy in her new surroundings, for I it is the consuInmation of a life long desire. But her going from us is a loss to us as l community and as individuals. Her 1 wonderful intellect, her many and varied 1 accomplishments, her marvellous literary | genius and the many lovely and lovable l 1 with hooks of steel. constituted person. ality in which the entire state felt justih-- able pride. But like the woman of old she offers all these things to Cbrist's service. Her mother, Mrs. Frank F. O'Brien, left | Birmine g ham on Monday for Loretto, to be with her when she assumes the white veil. No matter where she goes, DO matter what duties await her, Sister Margaret Marie | will carry with her the love and devotion of those of us who felt there was no limit l tct tboi ioua Of Ma | ret B. O'Bren.
 Some years ago. during Miss O'Brien s first year at the famous school at Loretto, | when she was only IA years of age, she wrote the following exquisite verses and read them at the commencement exercises. A reporter from the Louisville Courier Journal was present, and was so impressed with their beauty and the fact that they were written by young girl of only IA years that he sent them to his paper, which published them at that time. This is the first poem written by Miss O'Brien: | HIDDEN THINGS.
 There's a land near the brink of the river of
 The land of the "might have been,"
 And unto it's gates come the beggar and
 spotless women and sinful thing,
 Hearts that bleed and lips that sing; | As they stand the joy-stars wane.
 There's rough bridge spanning the chasm of
 The bridge of the past and gone, And over the stones pass once in a while
 Feet that know many weary mile,
 Hearts that are pure and hearts that are | vile,
 And the guide lamp of hope burns out.
 The page of regretted things,
 | And over it's lines with sobbing sigh | Glance eyes that are wet and eyes that are
 And jealous hands hide it, they know mol
 For tis plotted and blistered with tears. l There's a blackened urn on a broken shaft
 Holding ashes of shattered gods.
 And hearts that are bitter and hearts that
 And mem ries dead-dream living yet,
 And stray gleams from suns forever set
 Come and weep where of old they laughed.
 There's a court that is held in the temple o
 love
 The court of the hidden pain:
 And we that are meek, and we that art proud,
 Drop our voices and whisper. lest speaking | aloud
 Our tones draw ,hither curious crowd
 Judge us Thou who art Ruler abovel
 Miss Lucille Smith has returned iron
 Tate Springs, where she spent four weeks
 most agreeably.
 Mr. and Mrs. Alex T. London are so. , journing at Blount Springs for shor , ! while.
 Mrs. J. M. Davidson and her children , ! leave iu a few days for Point Clear, Ala. | where she will spend several weeks witt her relatives, Col. and Mrs. Joseph Hodg ' son.
 AS the evening sun sank behind thu , ! western hills last Monday all that wa
 mortal of brave, splendid young mar | was consigned to rest in our pretty ceme l tery. Mir. Edward Beard had gently faller