Article January 9, 1904 Issue

The Everlasting Arms

LENA P. MORSE.

There has long been in my thought this little parable, if I may call it such. I am a mother, and in their baby days, the children would come and creep into my arms when their childish troubles seemed to press heavily. I would rock and sing and they were soon fast asleep.

But the moan and sigh and crying out, "Mamma! mamma!" showed that the dream-shadows were pursuing and seemed as real as the other troubles, and the knowledge of their refuge and safety was crowded out by what seemed to the sleeping thought to be true.

What was to be done? Awaken the child and tell it the truth. Say to it, "You are safe, dear; listen, mother is speaking, she is right here, you are in mother's arms. Wake up!"

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