Ch. 19 - Little Heart's-Ease - Page 2

the war
was drawing to an end, Christie's sad resignation was broken, by
gusts of grief so stormy, so inconsolable, that those about her
trembled for her life. It was so hard to see the regiments come home
proudly bearing the torn battle-flags, weary, wounded, but
victorious, to be rapturously welcomed, thanked, and honored by the
grateful country they had served so well; to see all this and think
of David in his grave unknown, unrewarded, and forgotten by all but
a faithful few.

"I used to dream of a time like this, to hope and plan for it, and
cheer myself with the assurance that, after all our hard work, our
long separation, and the dangers we had faced, David would get some
honor, receive some reward, at least be kept for me to love and
serve and live with for a little while. But these men who have
merely saved a banner, led a charge, or lost an arm, get all the
glory, while he gave his life so nobly; yet few know it, no one
thanked him, and I am left desolate when so many useless ones might
have been taken in his place. Oh, it is not just! I cannot forgive
God for robbing him of all his honors, and me of all my happiness."

So lamented Christie with the rebellious protest of a strong nature
learning submission through the stern discipline of grief. In vain
Mr. Power told her that David had received a better reward than any
human hand could give him, in the gratitude of many women, the
respect of many men. That to do bravely the daily duties of an
upright life was more heroic in God's sight, than to achieve in an
enthusiastic moment a single deed that won the world's applause; and
that the seeming incompleteness of his life was beautifully rounded
by the act that caused his death, although no eulogy recorded it, no
song embalmed it, and few knew it but those he saved, those he
loved, and the Great Commander who promoted him to the higher rank
he had won.

Christie could not be content with this invisible, intangible
recompense for her hero: she wanted to see, to know beyond a doubt,
that justice had been done; and beat herself against the barrier
that baffles bereaved humanity till impatient despair was wearied
out, and passionate heart gave up the struggle.

Then, when no help seemed possible, she found it where she least
expected it, in herself. Searching for religion, she had found love:
now seeking to follow love she found religion. The desire for it had
never left her, and, while serving others, she was earning this
reward; for when her life seemed to lie in ashes, from their midst,
this slender spire of flame, purifying while it burned, rose
trembling toward heaven; showing her how great sacrifices turn to
greater compensations; giving her light, warmth, and