Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1918-03-21
HOME. SWEET HOME.


rest;
Homeseeking hearts are happiest.
For those that wander they know not
where
Are full of trouble and full of care.
To stay at home is best.
Home-the name made dear by sa-~
cred associations, the place where
childish feet take their first faltering
steps and infant minds receive their
first ideas. Where Lessons Of love and
truth, or right and wrong, OF faith
and hope and purity are imprinted
upon the plastic heart, and all the
sorrows and perplexities Of after life
are inefficient to quite effacs these
first deep true impressions. Sweet
home, where the mothers gentle hands
prepare the little domestic comforts
that fathers love provides, and fl
ial affection is the silver link, the silk
On lie that binds the household band
together. Trials may come and
clouds nay lever, but in the sselusien
Of homo rsmAins sweet healing Ter
ths wounds that brave and ssnitivs
hearts hide xxea aIdAinful world
There these ksras aAa aisEsssss nay
b ssnAlsntly revealed and sevsr-
eign remedy found in its uAeHsshen-
| ing faith. There . shild's pure kiss
or the te~sh Of dimpled fingers may
revive q soul on the verge It despair
and in the home the brightest dreams
become more golden, the rarest pleas
ures more intense, the tenderest joys
more serene And, if, in the varying
degrees of fortune, its loving shelter
Yaust be abandoned, how the exile
folds about his heart, as the traveller
does his cloak the memory of it's
LIGHTS and flowers, it's loves and hopes
and kindness.
There the noblest influences exist
the hottest impulses find expression,
and there have been born the chaste
and lofty sentiments that have made
a whole world better.
a whole world better.
The bitterest tears shed over graves
are for words left unsaid and for
deeds left undone. "She never knew
that l loved her" "He never knew
what he was to me" Il always meant
to make more of our friendship" q
did no tlsnow what he was to me until
he was gone" Such words are the
poisoned arrows which cruel death
shoots from tn door of the sepulchre
There is an enduring tenderness in
| the love Of a mother for her son thai
1 transcends all other elections of the
heart
A crust Of bread, a pitcher of wa
ter, log cabin and perfect eve
there is happiness Tor you, whether
th EBAY Be rainy Of shiny. It is th'
heart that makes Tia ehome, whether
tia eeye rests o ma potato patch Or :
flower gordon. The heart make!
home precious and it is tho only thing
that cam Home is where the hear
is.
While a man admires womanl!
beauty yet in married life he admire'
much mora good square meal cool
ed by his loving spouse; and let a wife
have little or no knowledge Of the ar
of housekeeping domestic economy
or is poor cook, be her husband 'ricl
as Croesus, hsr lot will be miserabel
Says = father of small family tt
as, "My boys and girls do not leay'
the door yard after seven o'clock I'm
less especially detained" We know
of others that adopted that same rul
years ago and heir sons and daugh
ters are today credit to the tow
| and community. There is nothing ell
| waiting in street education.
The mother who allows the blue
; and sulk to overshadow the hom
who allows herself to be moody AM
disconnected, fails in chief duty ant
places a handicap. on her husband ant
: children in the race Of life.