THE OVERSHADOWING CURSE; THE COMFORTING MESSAGE by Mrs. Clara R. Winterton

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jun 23, 1898

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 24, No. 25.

THE OVERSHADOWING CURSE; THE COMFORTING MESSAGE.

By Mrs. Clara R. Winterton

(A Dream.)

DURING the night of Feb. 22, 1898, I dreamed a dream, in which, with my husband and two children, I was living in a southern city. Our house was on the southwest corner of the block, facing the west. The season, late in summer; the hour, about 2 P. M. The weather was extremely hot and dry, much more so than any I had ever known. Before our open windows hung wet sheets, that the air might be cooled by the evaporation of the water. My children lay sleeping on the bed, which had been pulled out in the middle of the room. But there was not a particle of breeze or draft of air, so I sat on the bedside fanning them. My husband sat outside engaged in conversation with a visitor.

All was unusually quiet in the city. Nothing animate could be seen on the streets, for the heat from the sun’s rays was so intense that even in the house it was almost unendurable.

Suddenly a shadow fell across the bed, so deep and peculiar a shadow I immediately hastened to the door to ascertain the cause; for well I knew that not a cloud had dimmed that burning light for many and many a day. Quickly I raised my eyes to the sky, and there, in most terrible distinctness, stretching from north to south, so that its awful shadow fell on all the land, was a monstrous skeleton of human form, its feet to the north, its head to the south, its horrible face downward and grinning in exultation as it gazed upon this southern land. My astonishment at seeing so extraordinary a sight can not be expressed. I had no

need to inform my husband or the man with whom he had been talking; for they had been made aware of its awful presence as soon as I, and were now beholding in speechless awe.

Not knowing how soon this strange sight might vanish, and with the thought that my children might in after time regret that they too had not seen it, I hurried to them and tried first one way and then another to awake them, but could not, neither did I know why they slept so soundly.

As I stood wondering, a sound so dismal was borne to my ears that I listened intently, thinking perchance I might discern its nature should it occur again.

I had only a moment to wait, and again a more dismal wail than before smote upon my ears. But so uncommon a sound I could not understand; and as it came from the east, I went through an adjoining room, and opened the south door next the side street. Not far down the street and coming toward me were three lovely young girls, clinging to each other, and so weeping that they saw not nor seemed to care where they were going. Their anguish seemed so deep it grieved me to witness it, so I stepped back and closed the door; but, with my heart full of sympathy, I silently prayed that God would help them, whatever their trouble or need might be.

In answer to my prayer came a silent command, “Go comfort them.” I dared not but obey, tho at first it seemed a heavy cross to bear.

Again I opened the door, and stepped out in the street just before the weeping girls, who as yet had not seen me. I opened my arms to receive them. I told them how since the fall of man in Eden, the curse of death had fallen on the human race and blighted human happiness; that all must pass under its terrible shadow; but that in Christ Jesus, the Life-giver, there was hope. He had passed through that shadow for all; that now in Him was life and hope for all. They believed and were comforted.

Then again from the east came shrieks and wails of anguish and terror. We looked, and saw that a congregation was just leaving a church, down the street, and that each one, as they stepped out, were under that baleful shadow. As each one looked to see the cause and ascertained it, all were filled with such fear and dread of some impending calamity that they became a mass of terror-stricken people.

I hastened to comfort the advancing ones, and soon found myself standing on a new pine box in the center of an open plot of ground, and before and around me was that multitude of wailing, weeping people. I told them over and over again, with but little variation, how we all were, and had been all our lives, under the shadow of death, but that the hope in Christ of life beyond the realms of death was offered freely and constantly to all; and yet we are careless of either until God sends us some warning to arouse us to a sense of our danger and our needs.

Very many ceased weeping, and lost their frightful terror of that awful skeleton whose shadow still covered us; yet they listened intently as I still told it to others who had not heard distinctly because of so much weeping and their distance from me.

Then I awoke, but so deep an impression had been made upon my mind that I remembered every detail with most vivid distinctness. Neither will it ever fade from my memory. And now, knowing it to be perfectly true in the sense it was shown me in the dream, I believe it to be a merciful warning from God, to arouse us to a sense of our true condition and only hope, and a slight warning only of the troublous times ahead.

There is a “more sure word of prophecy,” in which are declared things which must shortly come to pass. A student of God’s Word who will observe the signs of the times need not be in darkness, but by taking heed thereto may escape. Realizing, in part at least, the seriousness and solemnity of the situation, I beg the kindness of the editor to permit me to publish my mite of warning, and to permit me to ask exchanges to please copy.

MRS. CLARA R. WINTERTON.

De Queen, Arkansas.