What is sorrow? Let us see it as momentary clouds, and with the poet Lowell agree that "in the unscarred heavens they leave no wake."
To the writer came the shadow of such a cloud, but as she lifted thought above the mist to spiritual reality, a light came. In those first moments of anguish trivial things were swept out of thought. Life was found deathless. God was present, His angel messages reversing the message of disaster which her eye had read. Into the consciousness struggling to resist the urge to sink into a darkening abyss came an angel message: "This son never was born into matter. How could he die out of matter?"
Questions crowded on her: "How could this have happened to one in the service of his country, for whom consecrated daily prayer had been offered by those in his home?"
