Reflections

16 IMPROVEMENT ERA stepped to a western window and looked upon another picture. Calling Joe to his side, he placed a hand upon his shoulder and said: "My boy, you have asked three questions. You asked the name of the architects who planned this building. They are men of exceptional ability, and their names are L and T "You asked what great sculptor carved the huge buffalo in the entrance to this museum. His name is a native of , our own state. "Then you asked the name of the artist who painted the picture of Mary and the Christ child. The original of that picture hangs in a noted gallery in Germany and was painted by the world-renowned Rembrandt. "Now, I have answered your questions, I want you to answer one for me. My boy, do you see that field of ripened corn on the southern slope of vonder hill?" "Yes, father, I do." "Do you see that patch of golden grain in the vale just below?" "Yes." "You see those cattle feeding in that green pasture by the side of that winding river?" "And you see that glorious sun, sinking into that mirrored lake,and sending its rays far across the deep blue sky, giving each cloud a golden lining?" The young man was absorbed in what he saw and deeply impressed by his father's description. At last, he looked up and answered, "Yes, father, I do." Then his father asked, "My boy, who painted that picture?" That night, the father, the mother and the boy knelt down together and prayed to the greatest of all artists, the Maker of heaven and earth." Reflection I sit and watch the daylight fade, I gaze into the west; Far out beyond those distant hills my thoughts first seek their rest, And fain would reach the scene of everything which I love best. How came it I have wandered from the things I hold most dear, And cast my lot in this wild place; so lonely and so drear? I now recall them, one by one, those things I long to see; And joys past come floating down the stream of memory. My dear old homestead, could I but return there for a day, And see my loved ones; ev'ry one, and hear my mother sing: "Our love is just the same as when you first began to stray!" But such is life, we wander from those things we dearly love, As we have wandered from the realms of light and peace above. I will not stay here, my thoughts have led the way; And I shall follow them back home, ves home again to stay. D. W. Smith