"I love you some, father, but not as I did my mother; and now my mother
is in heaven, who shall I have to take care of me and kiss me, father;
who will say a prayer to me every night? Aunt Susan's prayers are not
like mother's; and your voice doesn't sound so sweet by the side of my
bed as my mother's did. Oh dear! what did my mother die for, and leave
me a poor little motherless boy?"
His father then took him upon his knee, wiped his tears, and soothed him
to sleep with gentle caresses. No word could David utter. For a long
time he sat with his sleeping boy, beside his dead. The paleness of his
cheek, and the frequent sigh, expressed his sorrow. His mother again
tried to draw from him an expression of his Christian fidelity, fearing
that he was untrue to his God and his Master under a trial so severe.
When at length he did speak, a hardened heart might have been moved by
his broken sentences and choking words, as he made an effort to assure
his anxious parent.
"Mother, I have the utmost confidence in the mercy and goodness of
God--even now that he has taken to himself one so very dear. I feel sure
there is some great and important lesson which he would have me learn
from this sorrowful event. I have all faith that Abby is at rest, and
will still love those of us who are left on the earth to mourn.
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