The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1909-03-03
THE STORY OF LIFE.
As Ii Is Written I'm Each of Our
Lives.

There is no more suggestive or
beautiful sight to our eyes, than that
or an elderly married couple. who.
trustingly and lovingly together. have
walked the rugged ways of life from
youth to old age, and now hand i'm
hand' and heart to heart, are patient
~ and hopefully waiting upon the
hither shore of time, for the sound
OF the boatman's oar, to be borne
across the mystic, pale river.
We look back along the dim vista
OF years to the halycon time of Nfe's
sunny morning, we witness their
plighted vows at the altar. and see
them go forth, in the pride of life
and the glory Of their young welded
lives to the struggles of existance.
Many a Godspeed and kind word of
cheer fall upon their ears as they go
out from beneath the parental roof
tree that is to shelter them no more
forever.
world Of experiences. of joys and sor-
rows. of grand successes, and per-
haps of said failures. But strong of
purpose and resolute of will, and with
life's sky rose-tinted with the flush of
dawn, they move on, and enter upon,
this to them all unexplored world of
experience. We see them settled in
their new home and begin the never
ending battle of life.
Perhaps their home is a log cabin
in the wilderness, with neighbors few
and far, or may be a cozy little cot
tage in some distant town. The hus-
band is bravely bending every energy
to the task of mastering the hard
conditions of life, and a home and a
name in the world, and securing il
possible that independence that
shall relieve them from the possibility
of want. To the wife's rosy cheek
has come the pallor of the dreadful
agonies of maternity, but now her
eyes are bright with a new hope, as
she caresses the tiny form that nestles
in her bosom.
And then comes added care and
heart-aches as the years glide awav.
We see them, with streaming eyes
and pleading lips tending over the
couch of their darling, as its little life
futters away in the short gasp of
dissolution, and its eyes grow dim
under the touch of deaths icy tigers.
But anon, time pours its gentle balm
into their wounded hearts, and the
bitter trial and loss which they
thought they never could endure.
fades away into a tender memory.
Again we behold them, and as i'm
the long ago they went forth into the
world, now their own noble sons and
daughters burdened with the un-
solved problems and untried respon-
sibilities Of life, follow in their foot
steps; and soon their home is left un-
to them desolate, save in the COM
panionship of their own souls.
Well for them if they have within
themselves treasures OF culture and
character that shall supply their
dearest need; we'll for them if school
ed in that beautiful philosophy that
enabled st. Paul to say: at have
fought the good fight, I have finish
ed my course, 1 kept the faith" they
too can feel in their souls that they
have done the best they knew, and
that now they will trust the good
Father for all that is to come.
The shadows stretch away in length
ening lines toward the east, and now
they are calmly watching the glories
Of the coming sunset of well-spent
life. How grand they seem in the
fruition Of their years, with their
silvered hair glowing in the sunsets
golden gleam. Their faces are ra-
diant with a divine hope that beyond
the bars Of the shining west the beck
oning arms Of their loved ones are
outstretching towards them to well
come them to their home of eternal
rest and love; and that in a few more
days. or years, at the most, they will
pass on as one weary with the bur-
den of the day gathers ''the drapery
Of his couch about him, and lies down
to pleasant dreams"