San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1926-01-14
Listen, World!
.Unburied Dear
By Elsie Robinson

The holidays aren't time of feast
ing and good cheer to Ellen. Oh yes,
the house is decorated and there's a
big dinner and heaps Of presents for
all. But there are no holly wreaths
hanging in Ellen's heart. There's
crepe instead
Every year, when others are plan
ming for the big rejoicing. Ellen pre-
pares for gloom. For fifteen years,
Ellen has done that. Fifteen years
ago Ellen's mother was killed in q
railroad accident as she was on her
way to celebrate the holidays in
Ellen's new home. Ellen was twenty
one then and newly married. 1t was
q terrible Christmas for her.
All through the year the loneliness
and grief persisted. Everyone was
very patient with her, for they knew
she must be suffering
When the next Christmas came
around the whole family planned to
gather together. In spite Of their
great loss. they looked forward to
the day Of seeing each other. There
were tears in their hearts when the
day dawned, but there were smiles on
their faces. 1t was good day after
all, and they were sure that some
where Mother was rejoicing with
them.
Ellen alone did not smile. She felt
it would be a dissertation to smile
She spent most Of the day in her
room, crying. She felt little shocked
at the others because they seemed ia
be enioying Themselves
For fifteen years Ellen has spent
Christmas that way. Other sorrows
have come. Dad died. Her sister
Amy ran away with a worthless
scamp. The bank failed. All these
happenings shocked and dismayed
Ellen and each happening was added
TO that gloomy reckoning which she
held on Christmas day.
Naturally it isn't very pleasant for
the family 10 have Ellen glooming
around this way They no longer
sympathize with her grief. or try to
be patient with her They think it's
plain selfish for Ellen to be such .
crouch on Christmas day."
Ellen hearing them, adds q martyrs
crown to her other holiday equipment
Fortunately she finds quite number
There's poor Mrs. Wilson who reads
her dead husbands love letters every
Christmas. And Mrs. Audrey wha
opens a pitiful little box that holds a
dead baby's toy and shoe and lock o.
hair. And poor dear Ethel White who
"simpIy cant bear the holidays ever
since her sweetheart ran away with
her best chum. And homesick NJ s
m - 30 q
Christmas since she left England.
These other mourners comfort Ellet
,,ia her annual festival of grief. They,
100, feel that il would be Dissertation
10 laugh and dance on a day wher
memory so racks the heart. SO yearly
they gather around their dead, the
poor, withered dead they will NOT
bury, and go through all the 'agong
OF loss again.
: How wrong it. is, And what al
eIasperating nuisance! There's moth.
ing holy in this revival of grief at the
cost of your own and the family's
Joy. It's as selfish and disgusting as
the exhibition Of any other sort OF
ta1trum. For it is tantrum, nothing
more or less. It's an emotional de-
baueh. 1t doesn't serve the dead and
it is an outrage on the living.
2 No good end is served at any. time
Of the year by reading tear stained
letters. or mourning over empty littl"
shoes or drinking again a cup of bitter
memories. If agony has marked
your life-and what life hasn't been
marked by agony? Give it decent
interment. Bury or burn those letters
and that precious wee shoe. Bury the
memories in your heart. Then cover
the grave with the flowers Of your
love or forgiveness and step back into
the parade where you belong
Copyright, 1926, King Features Syn Inc