Jeanie was tired—so tired; lonely, oh ! so lonely.
Drawing a chair to the open window she sat down, wearily. Like a storm-tossed ship her soul was laboring heavily—ploughing silently through the swell of some great emotion-unfathomable. She tried to understand, but failed, and soon her thoughts were merged in the shadowy sea of Doubt.
No guide she had.
Half unconsciously her hands clasped and fell softly amidst a mass of ivy clustering round, forming a pillow of rest to which her head instinctively drooped. Her thoughts were far in the hazy twilight and waking into a waking dream—the muse of an absent soul seeking some far-away fugitive Peace.
As if to befriend her lonely desolation a gentle breeze sprang up and breathed into her aching heart sweet fragrance of sleeping flowers below—staying awhile to play amid the waves of dark brown hair that hung loosely from her shoulders. A tender luster graced the eyes that gazed beyond in wistful longing—alonging that grew in intensity as the inward storm gathered force. But calm came soon—there was One who understood.
The ever-deepening shadows, the soothing rustle of waving trees and grasses, lifted her soul beyond the range of earthly sorrow, and drew from her lips in a faint whisper. “Peace.” The shadows dimly echoed, a little moonbeam stole a loving glance, and the sleeping roses beneath her breathed a fragrant breath of Hope.
Out of the silence the ripple of a stream caught and charmed her ear as it ran on in silvery threads from stone to stone murmuring its tender song. It carried her dreamily far away: farther, farther yet—and its music grew fainter—an exquisite stillness reigned; no sign, no sound, no word; just the sweet consciousness that the Eternal Power that holds and guards each precious life was near—so near. A slumbering sanctuary within her was awakened. With all emotion quickened, yet sublimely calm, she learned nor doubt, nor fear, nor sorrow need remain—the very stillness told her of the Love there is—and shall be. A Love whose sunshine can dispel all darkness; a Love that falls in gentle showers to cleanse and render pure; that steals so softly on the soul to lift man upward.
Jeanie had found the heart's one prayer that brings the future near—upon whose gleaming ray the soul leaps out to claim its own and brings back gracious gifts of Peace and Joy. That night she dreamed sweet sunny dreams, and heard a faint voice whispering, “All is well.”