"
The physician was an old and valued friend, being the same who had stood
by the death-bed of my father, and he deeply sympathized with me in
this, my second bereavement.
As I stood by my mother, my grief was not noisy; it was far too deep
and powerful for that. Outwardly, I was quite calm. My mother had
endeavored to prepare my mind for this hour. I had also prayed for
strength to meet it with fortitude and resignation; but those who have
stood by the dying bed of a fond mother may understand my sorrow. My
mother was spared much of the suffering which attends the last moments
of many. She seemed to be softly breathing her life away. After lying
for some time tranquil and quiet, she suddenly opened her eyes and
looked from one to the other of us. As they rested upon me, she made a
sign that I should go nearer to her.
"Weep not, my dear child," said she, in a whisper; "be faithful, and you
will yet meet me in heaven."
She also addressed a few words of like import to Aunt Patience.
Suddenly, she raised her hands, and, as she looked upward, with a smile
upon her countenance, we heard a sigh--and her spirit had returned unto
God Who gave it.
I was borne from the apartment in a state of insensibility, and, when I
awoke to consciousness, the doctor and Aunt Patience were standing at my
bedside.
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