Press enter after choosing selection

A Beautiful Memory

A Beautiful Memory image
Parent Issue
Public Domain
OCR Text

The other day I was visitiog a place to dedicate a e'iureb. In the early uiorning (it was spring), I was awakened by a weird and strange sound that stole through the open casement and roused rue up - a sound that somehow thrills more deeply into ïuy ear than any other sound in mere anímate nature. It was tbe cooing of a dove. It carne borne in on the ruornine út, and I listened. Al l listened to it's swell it choked me, almost broke my heart ; and in a moment I saw a dove op the brokcn limb of a walnut tree, standing by an old orooked lane, down by a wqrn-fcnce ; and I saw ita bosom heaving as if its hcart would break. I gazed at it. I was a little boy standing on the yard-fencc of my father's house. More than fifty years had elapsed since that event, but it stood out bctbre me that morning as if it had been but fMterday. By a -tranco luw of association, starting with the early memory, I lived life over again. l went in an saw my motlicr, beautiful as shc was in her youog womanhood. hhe put her hand on my head, kissed me. and soothed my childish sorrow. 1 bowed at her knee and recited my infant prayers again. Then came early school days, and old playmates gathercd about me, and old loves and joys were lived over ; creeks, liills roads, lanes. fields and woods, familiar to childhood, looked at me with their old familiar look, cach ulive and pulpitating with precious memories. Mycheeks were bedcwed with tears as the picture., with such strange vividiteM pftsaed beforc oie. Voicoa of the long ago dcad soundcd on that i-till morning air; I uceiued to hear them calling over the gulf of a half hundred yoarn, as they greetea me in that long ago. Then I was a young man. My college daya were past. The wide world was before me. With anxious and trembling ezpectations I was looking into the future, all uncertain of what might ba its sorrows or suceesses. My horse was at the gate, my father's blessing sounded on my ear afresh, my moth or's tearful farewell was repeated. I ha.stily mounted the horsc and rode away. i Then opened upon me the long journey of years up to that morning, stretching over seas, oceans, continents, almost the cutiré globe. Cities, towns, temples, museums, people from every land which I had visited, rose up around me with minute ezactness. I knew that I was the same self through all the changea of all the years. The same that spring morning, though gray and scarrcd, that gazcd with tearful sorrow on the moaniog dove fifty years bctorc. My body had changed and many 'time vauished away, but I abided ; the ycan had driyen me from Iiouhc tq house, time and again, but they had nut impaircd me. That which abides is a spirit. Bodies


Ann Arbor Courier
Old News