The Brandon news. (Brandon, Miss.) 1892-1961, 1903-09-17
WE SHALL LIVE AGAIN.


ana out of the depths has come no au-
dible word of either affirmation or
negation. Ask of the sphinx and you
are met with the stony stare of the
silent stone. Ask it of the forest
flower and It is motionless. And yet,
after all, there is an answer that may be
read without ears. and understood by
all who think-it is the deep impress
of fact that we shall live again.
Everything tells the Same story, and
it is told in such way that we can
not get away from it.
There is a man, and there is a
woman. They live, think, feel, talk
and act. AS they are before us they
are, mot. SO greatly differed from the dog
that follows. the man or the Gagged
bird of the woman. If it stopped
there, and if it was simply struggle
for something to eat, mere exist
ence in the world, there would be no
more reason for a future life of the
man and the woman than there would
be for the dog or the bird.
But there springs up between the
man and the woman something that
defies all analysis. They sit side by
side along the seashore and watch the
great waves coming in and breaking
on the beach, or watch the mountain
casting it's shadow in the valley, and
note the stars wheeling III place.
They feel more than they can work.
1t is clear outside of their existence
physically and personally. Cut it
short and call it love if you will.
What is that? 1t is something eternal
and undying. 1t is the greatest
thing in the world, and it is great
because it is not of this world.
The lovers sit in the wood, by the
side of gurgling stream that courses
down the mountain side, fed from the
springs high up on the slope. At.their
feet, unnoticed, is a little flower.
1t opens its petals unseen, and it
lives it's day and then withers. Its
presnce passes, and it is forgotten
among the flowers. The plant has
died, as we would say.
Then come the long, dreamy, au-
tumn days that shade off into the cold
of the early winter. Then in the
night comes the first snowfall, and
all through the cold, dreary winter,
the flowers sleeps unseen, forgotten,
persisted off the face Of the earth.
Then the snow melts, the warm sun
shines, the winged and furred folk
begin to make themselves known and
seen. The plant is resurrected, and
all over broad backed mountains the
miracle is being rn-enacted, as it has
been in the ages agone. And the
flowers bloom again, in its own col
ors, larger, sweeter, and brighter. If
the good God that sent the flower
again was kind to it, and to the
little people who slept while the
snow fell over them, how much
greater His love for the man and
the woman.
The man and the woman go down in
the valley and cast their lot together.
They JOY and they sorrow, they laugh
and they are silent together. One
night there is feeble cry in the
house, and they think that all of the
earth that is worth anything in this
life lies there before them. And,
strange, inexplicable, when the SPLEEN
dor of the autumn is on them, there,
in the darkened room lies the child,
white, still, and what they call dead.
They make moan and out on the hill
size the little one is laid to rest.
One afternoon the woman steals out
and transplants handful of earth on
the little mound It is as dead as we
say the child is. Then come again the
warming sun, the kiss of tile dew,
and the gentle fall of the rain on the
grave. Out from its bosom springs
the green shoot, it pushes out, and
from it's center springs the forgotten
forest bloom again, for all its trans
planting. The wild bird nests at it's
roots, and the good God watches the
bird, and the plant is not forgotten.
Shall He forget the child. Not So.
It is not within the bounds for reason
that it should be SO. It is wholly
within reason that He who gave,
shall call to Him the early wanderer
away from the home in the valley.
And the reason? Who knows? Does
the bird know why the warm sun
comes? Does the flower fathom the
secret of the dew and the rain? Do
we know the why Of infinite knowledge
and infinite goodness? But as we
know that the bird and the flower
come again to us, SO we know that the
child that has passed shall not be for
gotten, and that in the sheltering
arms of the King that once blessed
children for all times it waits our