that my paper slipped from my hands and a sickening fear came over me. Suddenly I saw myself as I really was, in all my selfishness I felt sick at heart. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of complaining, of finding fault, of scolding? All of these were my rewards to you for being a boy. It wasn’t that I didn’t love you, Son. It was just that I expected so much of a little boy. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years. There is so much that is good, and fine, and true in your character. The little heart in you is as big as the trunk of the oak —¡^ all of this was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. I have come to your bedside in the darkness and kneel here, so ashamed, to ask the Lord to make me a better father. You wouldn’t understand these things, if I told them to you while you were awake, yet I must say them. I have prayed God to strengthen me in my new resolve. Tomorrow I’ll be a real Daddy! I’ll chum with you. I’ll play with you. I’ll suffer when you suffer and laugh when you laugh. I’ll bite my tongue when impatient, cross words come. I’ll keep saying: “He is nothing but a boy . . . a precious little boy.” I am afraid I’ve seen you as a man, yet as I see you now, Son, crumpled and weary in your bed, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday you were in your Mother’s arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked much, too much of you, Son. Dear boy, a peni tent kneels at your infant form here in the darkness. I kiss your dirty lit tle fingers and your damp forehead, and ask, “Forgive me, Son . . . I knew not!” * * * The Bible rightly admonishes us to bring up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it! Paul writes, “And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord!”
THE FOLLY OF UNBELIEF Miss Ruth Gill, who has been on the staff of this monthly publica tion, gave us this interesting photo graph coming from Indiana. This is the gravestone of Martin T. Jenners, born August 21, 1832, died Decem- 22, 1919. The headstone reads, “My
Unusual Gravestone Heading only objection to religion is that it is not true.” How tragic that some one who crossed his path along life’s journey did not either possess or know how to use the tool of II Timo thy 2:15, “Study to show thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.” One moment in eternity will reveal the fact that religion may be wrong, but Christianity is true, and bears the only real hope of life beyond the grave. The gospel is summarized in these words, that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day, according to the Scriptures. * Three words aptly describe life's modern senseless living — hurry, worry, bury. * *
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