They stood in the open doorway,
Ere day was scarce begun,—
A winsome, happy young mother
And bonny little son.
Her eyes in their love-lit beauty
Resting with love untold
On his sweet red lips, kiss-pouted,
And hair of tawny gold.
While I doubt not, as she clasped him
Close in her sheltering arm,
She was praying the All-Father
To shield her child from harm.
A kiss for her lips,—another,—
Then with a loving, gay
"Good-by to my sweetheart mamma,"
The little one ran to play.
'T was only a simple picture;
Yet somehow the dull room
With a flood of light was brightened,
Dispelling all the gloom.
And often since, when the sunshine
Has seemed from life to flee,
When gloomy clouds hung o'er me,
And rain fell pitilessly,
A thought of that doorway picture
Has brought with it strength and balm,
Till I've felt 'mid storm and darkness
The strength of a sheltering Arm.
