Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1900-06-08

voice even and sweet. for she saiu. mo,
1 will not go with you; Paradise is
here"
1t was noon. still summer noon
when Death came again, meeting. as
he glided through the solemn quiet of
the waiting. praying desolate home.
man whose face was as pale and set as
Deaths own; whose eyes were heavy
with unshed tears; children with n
strange grief upon their hearts. But
needless, Implying Death passed them
by. and went once again for the one
who was brought into the shadow of
his wing. But ii was different scene
that met his eyes as he paused for an
instant at the door; it was mothers
room now, wide and spacious. Over the
mantel the pictured face of Il man, a
scholarly face, pure of outline and di-
rect and firm of expression, seemed to
dominate the room, and the groups of
children's portraits, little shoes upon
the floor, little stockings in the great,
wide workbasket schoolbooks and
states on the desk by the window, all
typified her life, with its broad, un-
selfish, womanly interests, its loves
and its cares, its duties and its pleas
ures. Once again she listened to
Deaths pleadings, and as he looked
upon her. he almost envied Life the
beauty he had written upon her face.
Youth and freshness were gone, spent
as generous giver does mere gold, in
loving service, glad to be the poorer;
but there was grace and loveliness pass
ing that of form or color in the quiet,
Madonna-liEe eyes, the thoughtful
brow, the mouth kept sweet and mel
low by sunshine and rain, the words
of love and the grooming of cradle
songs; all was there, all the Life from
which he had warned her-tcars and
laughter, moments of joy, hours of
sorrow and grief, years of sweet, calm,
even-paced content, hope, patience,
anxiety, reallzation-the story was all
written there, and it was gain, not loss;
beauty strength and all lovesome wom-
anlness, but Death despaired not, even
though he saw more of happiness than
of sorrow.
y
to Paradise; you who have known grief
and loss, for have taken your children
from your arms, and they bloom there.
You have seen all that Life imposes;
you have known weariness; you have
felt the thorns and briars along the
path. Life has not spared you labor or
care. To you. and such as you, come
as a deliverer; one who bestows rest
after long toll. All Life's burdens will
be lifted, and you will forever fold your
hands in eternal peace. Come with me,
You who should greet the coming of q
friend who will give you Paradise"
But she looked up into his face, into
the passion-pure, marble-like features
of Death, and, as the glow of the
Northern Lights fushes into roseate
hue even fields of ice and snow, so the
face of Death became illumined with
all but human beauty and expression,
as she said, her voice not the timid,
faltering tones of the blushful maid
who had once answered his plea, but
the full-rounded, melodious accents of
woman: 'Go your way, Death. /
know all that life means, all that love
gives and takes, and again will l say,
after all these years, Paradise is not
with you. Paradise is here, happiness
is here. for John is here!'
And Death trailed his ghostly gar
ments through the house and went
alone, with almost bitterness against
his brother Life, who could so hold
out and so charm. When she walked
she said as one who had routed and
conquered foe: "What does he know
of Paradise? Paradise is here, for
you, my beloved, are here"