The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1920-02-28


Early the following morning / start
ed for a walk just as the sun was
climbing the eastern bluff, and the
beauty of that sunrise l shall never
| forget. An hour later l turned my
steps backward to the tavern, for it
was then that | felt the need of my
| morning meal, the meal l had dis
pensed with weeks past because of no
desire for same Thoroughly absorbed
| in the scenery about me, scarcely no
ticed the people as they passed, until
at length I was aroused from my rev.
erie at the sight of an invalid reclin-
| ing in an easy. chair, on the porch of
| small and somewhat neglected look
ing cottage. The face haunted me, for
felt had seen it before and longed
to know something of the life of one
| who now wore a face that spoke of
such disappointment, sorrow and sick
ness. All day.I could think of little
| else. So naturally l turned my steps
in the same direction on the follow
ing morning. rs "
AS l neared the cottage my sense
of curiosity was satisfied, for I could
see the lady seated on the porch and
| close by her side was a child, who
| seemed to be receiving all of her at
tention. She needed not the approach
| ing step, neither did she turn to look
when suddenly / stopped and gazed
for a moment without speaking, for
l in w ct q
| creature my friend and playmate of
years gone by, Marian Goodwich, of
whom had lost all trace.
| Then I greeted her with a CHEEKY
| Good morning. She turned toward
me and, although she recognized me
in that first glance, she spoke with
little emotion and her countenance be-
trayed no sign of pleasure. l fingered,
for longed to know the trouble which
| seemed to have burdened her so
heavily. Pity had taken possession of
me and | wished to offer her comfort.
She tried to converse on various sub
| jects, and for some time never allud-
ed to herself At length, however, she
mastered her proud spirit, and looking
me straight in the eye, as was her
custom in childhood, she exclaimed:
| You have been sent to me through
the mercy of God in answer to my
earnest-yes, fervent entreaty. For
| have l not prayed for one who might
understand in whom l might pour
| forth my troubles? Trouble that is
| icfn
| New friends are kind and try to be
sympathetic, but. they cannot offer the
| sympathy and consoling words that
| true and tried friends can give. This
| has been my experience, and the sight
| of you has brought to me relief, for |
| have felt that the telling of my story
and the pouring forth Of my grief
| would lift from off my heart burden
which at times has been almost I'M
| bearable." Her cold, set features
never relaxed. Neither smile nor a
| tear betrayed her feelings; still by her
words l knew my presence had given
her the pleasure she hungered and
| craved for.
The story she told was pathetic
how in opposition to the wish of her
ried a certain John Norton. During the
first years of their welded life happi-
ness seemed hers in full measure, and
John was so good why should she
| trouble him with religion. So nat
urally the practice of her holy religion
| which had so long adorned her life,
| was neglected. Alas! but three short
years had passed when her first great
sorrow was cast upon her, in the news
of her dear mothers death. Her
| father, then an aged man, became dis
heartened and soon after passed to
his eternal reward. Their death
| weighed heavily upon Marian, for even
| though they had become reconciled to
her soon after the marriage they had
pleaded and begged constantly for her
| to return to God and implore His for,
giveness for having, so long resisted
His loving guidance. They had learned
to see in John many good traits, and
| they urged Marian to lead the way
for him to our Heavenly Friend who
is ever ready and anxious to receive
His children and in turn to shower
| generously upon them His gift of love
and comfort. This she consented to
| do, but seemed in no hurry, and post
| poned it from time to time until the
| grim Reaper had claimed both ere she
had granted to them their dearest
| wish.
While this grief was still keen and
remorse was cutting deep into every
fiber of her body, another and a
greater grief was cast upon her. One
night late in December the safe in
the foundry where John was employed
was opened and robbed Of all it's con
tents. False evidence was given
John was accused of the robbery and
sentenced to prison for a term OF
years. The news seemed to paralyZe
her sense of reason for time. Then
her proud, naughty spirit gained mas
terry, and in her frenzy she doubted
his honesty and allowed her conf
dence in him to be shaken. This was
more than John had expected from
!, the source where he looked for naught
but solace, comfort and loving words
of courage. So, kissing the child ir
her arms, he spoke with a lool
of defiance, saying: Innocent am
/ 1>1fo 10 rr,:1