The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1910-12-22
FADING.


of truth. But God will not let us forget it.
Every year at the fall of the leaf He re-
peats it in parable to thoughtless souls.
Leaves are beautifulobjects, we all agree.
Simple in structure, graceful in form,
the most exquisite productions OF
loom. And wonderful human
interest they have about them. In bowers
of happiness for youth and love, in chap
lets for the tomb of affection, in wreaths
for the brow of fame, they are linked with
many of the tenderest and noblest associa-
tons of our human experience. When the
coffin of Tennyson was carried to its burial
in Westminster Abbey, there was laid upon
it, with the love of the queen of the worlds
greatest empire, a wreath Of leaves. And
what could she have done more? If she
had laid her crown upon that honored dust
it would have been pompous unmeaning
tribute. But chaplet of leaves and the
world said, It is we'll. What other emblem
of humanity so beautiful and so expressive?
What other tongue of nature at such time
so eloquent with divine teaching to the
inner ear opened to its strange sweet power.
Not all at once, but gradually the foliage
of tree fades and passes away. Some
leaves droop and wither even in the spring,
when the rest of the foliage is in its bright
est and most luxuriant beauty. Some are
torn away in summer by sudden and violent
storms. The great majority fade and fall
in autumn; while few cling to the branches
all through the cold and desolation of win
ter. So it is with every human generation.
Some die in the spring of life. Some are
cut off suddenly in their splendid maturity
by accident, or violence. or fell disease.
Some naturally, in the chill of old age,
wither and fall. A few far outstay their
generation, like the last brown leaves that
rustic mournfully in the winter wind on the
topmost boughs of the trees. Melancholy
is the lot of these long lingering ones. Do
all yon can for the old, for their comfort
and cheer. Old age means solitariness.
One by one the companions of youth de-
part, and those who by reason of strength
attain to four-score years find themselves
pilgrim strangers on the earth-nearly all
who began the journey with them have
folded their tents and gone away.
And indeed for all of US who have passed
the midsummer of life, how true it is that
many leaves have fallen from the trees of
friendship and love. The ground about US
is strewn thick with the relics Of joys that
have fled. The trees begin to assume a
bare and wintry aspect. Already some of
US are related more to the departed than to
the living, and we think of the world be-
yond, not as foreign shore, not as bleak
outlying realm of shadows, but as portion
of the loved scenery of home, because into
it has gone so much of that which formed
our very being-so much of what was
dearer than life.
We are told that the leaves of some trees
when they fall leave no trace whatever be-
hind, while there are other trees on which
the scars are permanent-all through sum-
mer's luxuriance and winters bleakness
the memory of the vanished leaf remains
indelibly in the tree, written as with pen
of iron on the bough which it once adorned.
How many there are among men who fade
away and leave no trace of life worthy of
the name. They have done nothing to
keep their memories fresh in the hearts of
those among whom they passed all their
years. Neither by greatness of mind nor
by goodness deeds of sympathy and help
fulness-have they left their mark upon
the generation. When they die society
does not miss them-matters speedily fall
into the ordinary routine. Even friends
and acquintances, when the first shock of
natural grief abates, never speak of them
or recall their actions. Others there are,
large minded or large-hearted, who live
not for themselves but for the glory of God
and the good of their fellow creatures.
These when they fade and drop off the tree
of life, leave behind them an impression
which time will only make deeper-a sad
vacancy which proclaims to the last an
irreparable loss.
All cheer and all courage to you, o We
meek and lonely hearted ones, faithfully
striving day by day to do well the modest
duties of your station-duties which so far
as human eyes are concerned wait for ap-
prevail too often carelessly or coldly with
held. The places that now know you may
soon know you no more forever-you may
fade as leaf and drop away; but those