Hearts That See

Hearts That See "Life is to be fortified with many- friendships. To love and to be loved is the greatest happiness of existence."— Sydney Smith. A .GAIN, Mother, Show me again," came a sweet voice from within the rose-trellised music room, and a low tremor of the keys told me that someone was playing the piano. I stopped outside and listened to the gentle strains. Clear and even, full of harmony and pathos, they seemed to float in the morning sunlight, out of the open windows and mingle there with the perfume from the roses. Alone I stood in the spell of the music until, at last, unable to resist a glimpse inside, I stepped on to the grassy embankment and in- truded may gaze upon the pretty scene that was there. OEATED on a low polished bench before the piano was a girl — just a mere child of, perhaps, seventeen. A cloud , of golden hair fell loosely about her shoulders lending light to the misty green of the little gown she wore. It was she who was playing the song. Slowly, tenderly her fingers moved over the ivory keys. The melody, plaintive and perfect, now swelling into joyous ecstasies, now growing faint and almost pitiful in its low wailing, suddenly broke ■ — and died away. The slender, girlish hands flut- tered impatiently and fell away from the keyboard with a sort of nervous gesture. She sighed "There, Mother, it's gone. I can't find the rest. Show me, Mother dearest, please! I can't re- member now." Her sweet pale face twitched eagerly as again the restless fingers softly groped over the keyboard. It was then I discovered an- other person in the room — an el- derly woman with a face strik- ingly like the girl's. Her lips were slightly drooped, almost sad; her hair was greyed at the temples, but her eyes were alight with an inex- By FAY DECKER DIX pressible sweetness and wet with unshed tears as she bent over the girl and answered cheerfully in a clear-toned voice, "Come, dear — we must be pa- tient. You will find those lost notes. Give me your hand." Why, I wondered, is the mother saddened? Why such regret from the girl over a simple lost melody? JrOR a moment I glanced about me at the tiny ter- raced lawns and old-fashioned gar- den; at the great elm trees and the green hedgerows. There was an oriole perched near the columbines bursting his throat with a love song. The fragrance of spring- time, the bees, the flowers, the sun- light and music — Oh, surely no elements foreign to joy could ex- ist in this glad haven! But my attention was drawn to the window again. The mother with gentle tenderness took the firm young fingers in her hand and placed them on the keys. Patient- ly they worked together, searching for the forgotten melody. And presently — it came! Over and over they played it. The girl began hesitatingly as she started to try it alone. A slight fearfulness shook her hands as she passed them over the keys — then the exquisite strains floated out again and died away, this time in the fullness of a perfect song. "Oh, Mother, Mother! I've found it — I'm sure I know it now, and I shall never forget it again," she cried clapping her hands lightly and flaunting her curls. She played it over, repeating the strains many times, then finally, she turned a joyous face toward the window, and, arising, came near to where I stood. J- UST then it was that the seeming rudeness of my posi- tion at the window dawned on me. I moved back a step while she approached the rose vine. I watched her while she plucked a flower and stood with the blossom held close to her face. Her eyes were covered by drooping lids fringed with lovely lashes. They were — what was there different about her eyes? Then, like a flash, it came to me. The girl was blind — utterly blind! I stood aghast at the awfulness of the truth. She was speaking, I heard her say: "Who is here, Mother? Some- one is in the garden." Thereupon the woman stepped up beside her daughter and looked in my direc- tion. Realizing the uselessness of fur- ther attempts to conceal my pres- ence I removed my hat, bowed low, and said; "Madame, I ask you to forgive an old man's instrusion. I was passing when I heard the music and came here only to listen. I trust that nothing has been harmed by my doing so." The mother smiled a kindly smile, "Why, no, of course not. Floryiene and I are always glad to welcome visitors to our cottage. Won't you come in? You must have walked far." 'Thank you," I rejoined, "It will he a pleasure ,to rest here, though walking in the fields is a pastime of mine." On crossing the threshold I was impressed with the simple beauty of the furnishings, the air of cool refinement which pervaded the rooms, and the quiet culture of the two women, the younger of whom, after making a polite ac- knowledgment of our informal in- troduction, asked to be excused to walk in the garden. I offered my assistance in leading the way but she declined sweetly. "Oh, no, thank you, sir. It is very easy for me. I know every nook of our garden." The mother moved gracefully about preparing refreshments for me as their guest, all the while keeping up a pleasing conversation. It came to our recollection that we had met before — many long years before, but the memory of it made our present meeting seem nearer on a friendly basis. We had been classmates together at the old col- lege when both of us were much younger. Strange are the coinci-

38 The Improvement Era for November, 1930 dences our youthful years will ever bring upon the golden decline of life's later days. 1 EARS were in her calm eyes when she told me of Floryiene's blindness. For a mo- ment I wondered if she would lose her remarkable poise, but as quick- ly my mind was changed. "It came so suddenly when she was very young, — and; she has never seen the sun shine since." "But," I said "she seems to be very happy." "Happy? Oh, yes! Happiness comes as naturally to her as one's voice or power to walk. Before her father died we always tried to teach her that being happy was the fullness of human existence, and, somehow, it has grown into her nature. It is a part of her per- sonality to forget the sordid things of life and go ahead loving every- thing." Her statement was confirmed, I noted, as I glanced out the window where Floryiene was moving easily among the Canterbury bells and ferns smiling as >she bent to feel the refreshing glory of the flowers. "You know," the mother went on, "I often think that is a trouble in the lives of us today. We don't put enough love into the things we do each day. We don't make ourselves interested in each other's work, and no one ever found joy in just thinking of himself. It furn- ishes poor satisfaction if one would progress," she smiled. "Af- ter all, it's love for each other that brings us perfect happiness." seated on the low piazza reveling in beauty while Floryiene walked along the hedgerow. The gleaming gold of the sun shed itself over the garden and re- flected on the flowers in a thousand colors. The blind girl could not see the picture — the light or the color; but she could feel them and love them the same. She could feel the caress of the red and black butterfly which trembled close to her hair as it fluttered to its night's repose. It, too, must sense the spirit of love that was there. "Mother, can you see the but- terfly? What color is it? All the world is so glad tonight." I left them in the garden — -a charming picture they made stand- ing arm in arm bidding me good- night in the gathering dusk. I ,N the years that have passed since then there has scarce been a day that I failed to call at the cottage. Sun or rain, clouds or snow, — always the simple home sends out its cheering welcome to those who come. I have laughed with them and rejoiced in their good fortune, and have sat in si- lent sorrow over ills that befall the way of us all. At church, at home, in forest and fields, in social gatherings, or while waiting upon a friend who is ill — always the same sweet sincerity remains a part of the charm in the character of mother and daughter. Ai .ND, now, in these years that have passed since my first meeting with Floryiene and her mother, I am only beginning fully to realize the great wealth of truth in the mother's philosophy. And every day as I see the girl, grown to womanhood now, and still possessing her inexhaustible habit of happiness, I feel exultant with the simple joy of living. Only yesterday as I was pass- ing under the window I heard the same sweet strains I had heard ten years before for the first time. As before, I stopped and peered inside, — to see the same picture I saw then. The mother's hair is white and the girl's pinned high — a contrast to the loose curls so buoyant in her girlhood; their faces are a little more gentle, a little more strength- ened, and much more beautiful with the years. XiS before I listened to strains so smooth and even. There was no hesitancy now. The notes rippled on without interruption and came to their soft, low finish. A moment of silence, then Flor- yiene impulsively arose and em- braced her mother's frail form, lay- ing her cheek on the silver hair. "You see I've never forgotten the melody, Mother. I told you I wouldn't. And it's only because you were patient and loved me enough to help me. I am so hap- py— I shall always be happy." Ah, little blind girl, what a lesson you and your mother have given me — "To love and to be loved is the greatest happiness." L< ,OVE for each other — love for each other! — Those words kept ringing through my thoughts the remainder of that day. The great Master of men gave to the race that principle. It was being lived in this quiet cot by the fields. All during the delightsome meal, and the pleasant stroll in the garden, where the little blind girl, with no less grace than the butterflies themselves, flitted from blossom to blossom, I kept hear- ing her mother's words. Flow true — with what sweet simplicity had they been spoken, and with what meaning were they interpre- ted. So I lingered until the sun was sinking in a haze of mauve and cose. Mrs. Cranton and I were -•K^eSSVoo- Crime, Here and There "TO those who believe prohibi- tion has increased crime in the United States it will be illuminat- ing to learn that crime has also increased in England and Wales, where there is no prohibition. This is explained in a report issued by the British Government entitled "Home Office Criminal Statistics; England-Wales 1928." The report lists increases in cer- tain crimes since the period just preceding the World War: Increase Housebreaking 72% Shopbreaking 129% Attempts to break in 110% Entering with intent to commit felony 1 23 % Obtaining money by false pretences-134% Frauds by agents 177% Falsifying Accounts 149% Other frauds 195% "It cannot be doubted that crime against property with vio- lence have increased most in coun- try districts outside the great towns * * * * And that the in- crease is due to the incoming of the motor age, * * * The motor car enables criminals, in great towns to travel into regions where they are not known and the # * * chances of interference less."— National W. C. T. U. are