Our civilization has fallen out of touch with night. With lights, we drive the holiness and beauty of night back to the forests and the sea; the little villages, the crossroads even, will have none of it. Are modern folk, perhaps, afraid of night? Do they fear that vast serenity, the mystery of infinite space, the austerity of stars?
Let mystery have its place in you; do not be always turning up your whole soil with the ploughshare of self-examination, but leave a little fallow corner in your heart ready for any seed the winds may bring . . .
To curse grief is easier than to bless it, but to do so is to fall back into the point of view of the earthly, the carnal, the natural man. By what has Christianity subdued the world if not by the apotheosis of grief, by its marvelous transmutation of suffering into triumph, of the crown of thorn into the crown of glory, and of gibbet into a symbol of salvation? What does the apotheosis of the Cross mean, if not the death of death, the defeat of sin, the beatification of martyrdom, the raising to the skies of voluntary sacrifice, the defiance of pain? . . . Suffering was a curse from which man fled; now it becomes a purification of the soul, a sacred trial sent by God. Eternal Love, a divine dispensation meant to sanctify and ennoble us, an acceptable aid to faith, a strange imitation into happiness. Power of belief! All remains the same, and yet all is changed. A new certitude arises to deny the apparent and the tangible; it pierces through the mystery of things, it places an invisible Father behind visible nature, it shows us joy shining through tears, and makes of pain the beginning of joy.
A mother's Love is something that no one can explain It is made of deep devotion and of sacrifice and pain, It is endless and unselfish and enduring come what may For nothing can destroy it or take that love away... It is patient and forgiving when all others are forsaking, And it never fails or falters even though the heart is breaking... It believes beyond believing when the world around condemns, And it glows with all the beauty of the rarest, brightest gems... It is far beyond believing when the world around condemns, And it glows with all the beauty of the rarest , brightest gems... It is far beyond defining, it defies all explanation, and it still remains a secret like the mysteries of creation... A many-spendored miracle man cannot understand And another wondrous evidence of God's tender guiding hand.