ONE of my neighbors, in town and church, is an old lady whose dress is of a style belonging to no period of fashion. I wonder, sometimes, if for forty years the cost has exceeded as many dollars. Her step is as light as a girl’s, her manner bright and cheery, and over her otherwise homely face spreads the glow of a heart at peace with God. Her youth was spent in a struggle for daily bread, and scarcely was this pressure removed before she was called upon to mourn the loss of first one and then another of her family, until she has out-lived every relative. Her home is plain, almost bare of the luxuries considered as indispensable to comfort, yet there is not one to whom I so much enjoy a visit as to this solitary woman, even so warm a greeting, so cheerfully companionable. “There is so much heartease about you,” I said once to her, “that it refreshes me to meet you. Why, you are the youngest and happiest person I have seen to-day!” “Oh, yes,” she replied, smilingly, “I have stopped growing old, for each day brings me nearer the possession of endless youth, in my better home. And how can I be unhappy in this beautiful world where my heavenly Father has placed me?” “Still you have your full share of trials and sorrows.” “Yes, I have surely passed through the valley of Baca, but by the grace of God I have been able to make it a well. But, my friend,” she continued, “I have been happy only since I ceased to strain after what was beyond my reach, and resolved no longer to hug to my bosom my griefs and disappointments, but to take them all to God, and leave them with him, content to be what he wishes, and only that.”—Christian Weekly.