Anniversary days always bring back the memories of those who have died. Out of what home, has not some beloved face vanished? You are thinking of these departed ones. If they died in Christ–the gospel of these Easter days lifts the veil, and shows them to you away beyond death, unhurt by death, living still, the same gentle friends they were when you knew them here and clasped them in your arms.
I had a letter the other day from Rome, written by a dear friend who is journeying abroad in search of health. The letter was full of bright words which reminded me of my friend’s beautiful life. There was the same old warmth, the same eager interest in things and people, the same kindly thoughtfulness. “Just like my friend!” I said, as I read the letter. Being in Rome has made no change in his gentle spirit.
It is just so with our friends in heaven. My father and mother are there. If I were to go to my ‘long home’ today, I know I would see them unchanged. Of course the marks of care are gone, or have become transfigured, and are now marks of beauty. They have not their earthly bodies–but then, those worn and weary bodies were not my real father and mother. Death ended nothing beautiful in them. I would see them living in new and richer life, engaged, as they used to be on earth, in loving ministries.