The Intermountain Catholic. (Salt Lake City [Utah] ;) 1899-1920, 1909-11-06

In the graveyards above the cities, in the grave
| yards meath the shadows of the mountains our
| loved ones lie sleeping. Let place upon their
graves the tribute of flower and tear let us go often
there to pause and linger and take in the sermon
those hallowed mounds of earth preach to on
the vanity of all earthly things, and let this thought
come home to u.s. too In the eternity the souls
of our loved ones may be held back on account of
faults an dimperfections from the light that knows
not night, from the glory that has no bounds. Oh
let us hasten to their aid and with prayers, our
good works. that the gates OF the eternal day may
spring open for them and entering there they may
enjoy the beatifc vision
'The Catholic church, our loving mother, in
vites us many times during the year, and especial
ly during this month of November, to join
nest prayers with hers for the dear departed. Oh,
how that great mother loves her childrenl From
their first faint cry to their last moan she cares
for them, she watches over them. See how lovingly
she brings her babes to the baptismal font and in
the name of the Blessed Trinity makes them chill
dren of God See how in confirmation she imparts
to her boys and girls the spirit of holiness forth
tude and truth whispering to them at the same
time: Go forth. Be virtuous men and women.
Fight the battles of the Christ valianty and we'll
And ah, if one of her children stay away into the
dark of sin, she follows after him to seek him and
bring him home to light, to peace, to his God And
when the shadows are falling she gives to her chill
dren the Bread of Life and sends them forth with
the lamp of faith and hope and love-to meet their
God. Nor is this all. She follows them into the
eternity beyond with her sacrifice, her prayers and
her aims deeds. Clothed in the garments of mourn
ing, she offers up the mass the one great sacrifice
of the new law for the dead soldiers of the Christ
and sweet and strong and hopeful the beautiful re-
QUEEN issues from her lips:
External rest grant to them, Oh Lord, and may
their souls rest in peace
eyes, yes in voice of unutterabe love she asks
her children of every age and of every cline to
l>,1oo1 how.
dead
Remembrance, oh blessed wordi What balm
that word brings to weary, worn, sorrowful hearts
The exile beyond the waters, though strange faces
surround him and the struggle for daily bread is
hard one, still, in his hardest and darkest hour.
this thought this ray of hope and cheer breaks in
and lights up his heart: In the old land loving
hearts beat for me, faithful minds ever think of
me. There is letter in his pocket; it is soed
and crumpled one, and on it is mothers tear in it
is a mothers love- Its pages breathe lasting re-
membrance. The criminal about to be executed
stands upon the scaffold. The world has no pity
for him. He deserves his fate is their verdict
but yet in that dread hour he derives consola-
ton from this thought: Criminal as I am with
the brand of Cain upon my brow, there is a moth
err sister who love me still; mother, a sister
who will remember me when the darkness falls.
Oh, sad, sad indeed, and terrible beyond words is
the position of man who, on the stroke of DEATH
bures his face in his hands, giving vent at the same
time to those piteous words: go and none will
remember me- Oh sweet remembrance that will
still love when world hates, world forgets Oh
sweet remembrance that will pluck the fresh fair
flowers for the friends grave and let fall the low
ing tribute of tear upon his earthly remains, but
oh sweeter remembrance that will follow, ever fol
low, the friends soul to the eternity beyond the
tomb with prayer and almsgiving and good works
beginning and ending all with this beautiful sup
plication:
Eternal rest grant unto him, Oh Lord May
his soul rest in peace
''Oh, sweet remembrance. Oh blessed remem- |
brance God has given us minds to remember and
hearts to love.
IF thou should'st never see my face again
Pray for my SOUL More things are wrought by
prayers
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy
voice
Rise like fountain for me, night and day,
For what are men better than sheep or goats
That nourish blind life within the BRAIN
If, knowing God, they lift not hands in prayer,
Both for themselves and those who call them
friends,
For so the whole round earth is every way
Bound by golden chains to the feet of Cod
eyes, yes, dear brethren let our voice in prayer
rise like fountain for our friends night and day.
let the beautiful thought of the great ST. Ambrose
be ever before our minds:
"'We have loved them in life; let us not forget
them in DEATH
"Let initiate the valiant Judas Machabaeus:
not indeed he welded the sword but as he raised
his hands in prayer for the dead long ago in old
Odollam.
at is holy and wholesome thought to pray
for the dead that they may be loose from their sins