A THANKSGIVING GREETING.
By C. W. Stone
ADDRESSED TO A HOME SITUATED AMONG THE GREEN MOUNTAINS OF VERMONT.
To the dear ones assembled on thanksgiving day, I send a hearty greeting. My mind runs over the long miles that lie between us—long though quickly traversed—and I try to picture to myself your little group as you gather around the festive board. I see the tables temptingly arranged, covered with the usual thanksgiving dishes. Soon the call is made that dinner is ready. The guests surround the table—a large circle, including brothers and sisters, father and mother, nephews, nieces, and cousins. The circle is complete. The younger ones, on whose minds old Time has not imprinted so many sad lessons, are full of joy. They do not think that the lapse of a few short years will make inroads upon their happy band. Even the more aged enter into the social joy with a will to cast off care, and enjoy the truly pleasing occasion. I fancy I see them all. There are no vacant seats, and every face is lit up with the happiness of the yearly convocation. Such is the picture that arises before me, and my heart leaps to be there. But a change comes over the scene. One by one the forms around the table and by the fireside vanish; and now there remains a broken circle, a chain with here and there a missing link; some chairs are vacant. The picture I saw was a true one, but it was the thanksgiving of a dozen years ago. How the memory of those days lingers in my mind! For nearly ten years our mother has been sleeping in the dust. And will she sleep ten years longer? That is a solemn question; but the time will soon come when the “little minute” of which she spoke will end. What a change ten years have wrought! Those we have looked for at our family meetings are widely scattered. Some are far away, and some are dead. What shall we learn from this? Perhaps you will say I am looking on the dark side, the mournful side. Well, I ask you if that is not the most prominent one? Is it not the real side? Are not these things true? Go back a few years. Who would have said that the strong man, the lively maiden, or the active matron would now be sleeping? Who suspected that age was creeping on? We see others grow old, but we can hardly realize that we too are growing old. But yet it is true; and no one of us can stay the wheels of time a moment. We are being borne on to eternity. As others have died, so too our turn will come. This short life will soon pass; and how soon, with some of us, who can tell? How insignificant are the treasures, the flatteries, and the honors of this world. Some of them would be very fine if it were not that they so soon fade. Could we live forever in the midst of friends, with no sorrow nor sickness, with wealth at our command, we could select places on this earth that would suit us very well. But God has promised better things than this. He will renew this earth and make it bloom as the rose. He is preparing mansions in the New Jerusalem, the streets of which are of shining gold; and he offers to make us rich, to give us a deed of an inheritance in the new earth, with a residence in the capital. All this we can buy without money and without price. It is to be had for the asking. Oh! let us ask earnestly. Soon the Saviour is coming to gather his children home. He is going to make a great feast, a thanksgiving supper for all the good of every age—the marriage supper of the Lamb. That will be a real supper too. Blessed are they who are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb. Rev. 19: 9. The blessed Saviour will “gird himself, and make them sit down to meat, and will come forth and serve them.” Luke 12:37. Where shall we be then? We are all invited to that supper. “And the Spirit and the Bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely.” Rev. 22:17. Shall we not make our calculations to go? I want to be there; and I expect to see at that table some of our dear ones who are now asleep. Perhaps I shall sit down by the side of my mother. Were she alive now, and I had not seen her for ten years, I should be very anxious to visit her. Well, if I am faithful, I shall soon see her. Shall we meet father there? Shall we have a grand family reunion there? May God help us to lay aside every weight, and run with patience the race that is set before us. I should like to be with you to-day; but I look forward to that day as a real event; and if we can only gain immortal life, we shall have a grand thanksgiving over on the other shore. Your brother, C. W. STONE.