The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1914-05-07
WRITE A LETTER
HOME TO MOTHER
If She Still Lives, Cheer her De-
clining Years with Words of
Love-Atone for the Sorrows
You've Caused Her.
The Summary.

When we contemplate writing a
letter it naturally brings to some OF
us the question, How long since
have | written to Mother?" Have
we forgotten the day that we spent
at mothers knee? Let us think OF
those days, and perhaps we can
again taste the sweets she prepared
for us on festive days, the pretty
things she made and bought for us
at Christmas time. Let us see the
night we left the parental roof to
fight the battle of life. Can we not
feel the tears upon her cheeks as
she kissed us good bye and babe us
God-speed? Can we not hear her
voice as she begged us to write i'm
mediately concerning our success in
life, and can we not remember the
promise to comply with her wishes?
Today, all these knock at memo
RVS door.
How long has it been since we
cheered and gladdened our mothers
heart by letter? Let us not for
get that no matter how far down
we may have fallen, no matter what
we may have done or what we have
failed to do. letter to our mother
is sure to be welcomed.
False Saying.
We have all heard that, No
news is good news" but it is false
when it concerns mother. A let
ter from her wandering boy, even if
it conveys the news that be is in
trouble, that his clothes are in tat
tiers and that his pockets are empty,
even if he tells that he is in prison,
is better than the sorrow and dis
tress that go with uncertainty.
Think of the heartaches that 60
with uncertainty. Think how
mother watches each mail, wonder
ing if it brings letter from you.
How anxiously she watches with
longing eyes for the mail mans ap-
proach. And when the mail car
rier passes by. imagine the disap-
pointment, the agony, the soul suf-
fering that shines from her eyes,
the sobs that shake her breast. as
she realizes that again her boy has
not written, that apparently his
promise is forgotten.
The Joy it Brings.
On the other hand, let us think
how different it would be if that
mail had carried letter from her
boy. How her hands would shake
as she grasped it and recognized the
old familiar writing. How she
would gaze at it and try to fathom
it's contents but at last break the
seal, and commencing to read, her
eyes rest upon the headlng-Dear
mother" She can read no farther,
for the tears blind her eyes. When
she has composed herself as best she
can, and brushes away the tears,
she begins again. but as she comes
to the words, Il am well'' can we
not imagine the joy that this will
bring? She does not care if our
pockets are empty or our clothes
ragged. So long as we are alive
and well, nothing else matters. Can
we not see what a change this will
have upon her? She will seem like
new woman. Her eyes become
brighter. and the whole world has
taken on a brighter hue. At last
her wish had been gratified, and her
prayers have been answered.
Let US not put it off till tomor-
row;to us it meansd delay and God only
knows what thirty days may bring
forth. So let us write today before
1T is too late. This mother will on
ly be with us few short years, and
we shall do all IN our power to make
her last days full of happiness.
Have we not caused her enough
sorrow in the past, and the least we
can do is to try and make up for it,
Let us all do our duty tonight
Write home!