The Vase of Tears

THE VASE OF TEARS By Wreno Bowers The following dream was told to me one day by Mrs. P- shortly after her child daughter had died. The little woman's story made such an impression on me that I wrote it down from memory as soon as I had time. Here it is: After my little girl, Ethel, died I was very lonely and I cried most of the time. She had been my only companion after her fath- er's death and it seemed almost impossible to face the long years with- out her. Everywhere that I looked; everywhere that I went, I saw some of her clothes or some of her playthings which brought back memories and tears. Every few hours of the night I awoke, crying. Indeed, I cried so much that my head began to ache as well as my heart. Then one night I had a dream. I dreamed that I was in a strange land, where the trees were all green and the flowers were of many colors. Avenues of gold ran through the forest leading to a beautiful city. Everywhere, among the green tree foliage, birds were flashing their gorgeous plumage and singing wonderful songs. As I walked toward the city, marveling at the beauty of the place, I met a group of children — running, laughing, singing with glee. Their little faces shone like the brightness of the sunbeams and their eyes sparkled with joy. They waved their hands at me as they passed and sang songs of the greatness of God. As I turned toward the city again my heart sank and a great sad- ness came over me. I saw coming, far behind the other children, a lone child carrying a vase on her head. She walked with a weary tread and her face drooped with sorrow. When she drew nearer I recognized my own child — my own little Ethel! Going to her I asked: "Why do you carry that heavy vase, Ethel? Why don't you leave it and run and play with the other little girls and be happy?" She lifted her face to mine and a ray of happiness lighted up her face as she replied: "These are your tears I'm carrying, mama, and they are heavy tears. And I can't leave them, I have to carry them wherever I go. If you would not cry so much, mama, then I could play with the other little girls and be happy. You should not cry, you should rejoice, for some day we will be together again and live in that beautiful city with Jesus our Lord." For a moment a silence fell on the room, then Mrs. P concluded: "This was only a dream, but to me it was a reality. I saw my little girl, as plainly as in life, and heard her speak. Her words were impressed upon my mind so that I cannot forget. Since then I have tried always to be cheerful; to look at the brighter side of life and look forward to the time when there will be no tears and all will be happy in the presence of God." Kamas, Utah