Birmingham age-herald., 1895-04-14
THE WANDERERS RETURN.

Mrs. Morton was widow and lived by doing chores among the villagers. She was not always poor, for at the time of her husbands death she was left a fair competency. This, however, was soon devoured by impecunious lawyers. She had a very promising son, who at the time of his fathers death was a lad of 15 summers.
 When the legacy of Mrs. Morton was swept away Walter resolved to go to tha far-away West and earn means to assist his mother. The future was all before him, as he had not a dollar with which to make a beginning toward the fortune he was so hopeful of building. For awhile all went well with him, but there came a time when the regular letter from the wanderer came not. Mrs. Morton, confident of her sons constancy, never gave up hoping for the letter but time rolled on and still the absent one failed to write. This was hard Tor the w1aoW as she was entirely alone. and ill health soon brought her to the edge of abjec1 poverty. She had daily become weaker and weaker until it was impossible for her to earn the bare necessities or life. The neighbors were kindly disposed and Mrs. Morton was not allowed to sur fer for the actual neceSSarieS to keep
 
 bors were not well off in this worlds s goods, and it was at times almost inn possible for them to provide as willingly for the lone widow as they would have desired.
 All this time. though not hearing from her wandering boy, she never lost nope. She still chung to the hope that some day he would return. Her faith was strong, and as her intlrmities grew her faith grew stronger accordingly
 The summer came and went, fall was at hand and it. too, went without lind from the boy so dear to her heart. Winter came, and when the chilling blast shook the fragile hut in which she was ekeing out her lonely, and at times most miserable, existence she looked and longed for the wanderer and stlli ne came not. The winter was gone ana the gentle breezes of balmy spring were at hand, and still she forsook not the hope that the wanderer would return
 One Sunday she was able to drag her self to the little meeting house where the villagers were wont to gather on the Lords day and offer up thanks for the blessings bestowed upon them. As the widow drew near to the door she heard the children in sweet accents sing: "Where Is My Wandering Boy To night?" The words so full of meaning to her were too much and she fell fainting to the ground and there remained until the worshippers on coming out found her lying there prone upon the ground.
 When she was resuscitated she was heard to utter in an almost lnaudlpie whisper: Where is my wandering boy tonight?'
 Alas, the truth was too apparent, she was bereft of reason. Gentle hands car ried her to the humble hut, and all that loving friends could do was done. but still that plaintive wall was all she ut tered.
 
 in foreign lands. For a time he heard from the idol of his heart-his mother, but the time came when he, too. failed to hear from her, and feeling that she was no longer among the living he deter mined to work the harder and save up sufficient funds to go back to the home of his childhood and gaze upon the little mound where all that was dear to him was at rest.
 He prospered and soon the time came for the wanderer to return. He had aged considerably, from mere lad he had grown to mans estate and with hls face covered with beard he. was but bare semblance of his former self.
 Arriving at the village he failed to recognize those whom in childhood he had known so well.
 -1The village church was beyond him n the -.aistance, but it was necessary Or him to passs by the door of the cot age where in cfn>ildhood he had been won't to play so happrf}y. He would far ,ather have gone by anotherr-route, but nv the door he was compelled to--pas A heaviness fell upon his heart as Ahe saw new faces coming from the doorway l where he had been so used to seeing thd face and form of his sainted mother | Those coming forth, he noted, were sad lened as by a deep sorrow.
 He fain would have spoken to them but his heart was sad and he could not speak. As he neared the doorway he heard nlaintiye wall. It sounded like voice from the tomb. It was the voice Of his | mother and the words were: s.Where Is my wandering boy tonght" It was his mothers voice. She | lived. He sprang to the door crying, | Here mother" and soon she was in his arms. .s The shock was too great-she fa1nted. | were applied and soon she l revived. It was indeed her son. But. hest of all she had regatned her reason. It was Easter morn and the world. l where once it was all so dark, was now | bright, the birds sang and in their notes the once lonely widow heard the words: l T know that my redeemer liveth.
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