A Mother's Praters

Every one who has thought on this subject must know how great is the influence of the female character, especially in the sacred relations of wife and mother. My honoured mother was a religious woman, and she watched over and instructed me, as pious mothers are accustomed to do. Alas! I often forgot her admonitions, but, in my most thoughtless days, I never lost impressions which her holy example had made on my mind. After spending a large portion of my life in foreign lands, I returned again to visit my native village. Both my parents died while I was in Russia, and their house is now occupied by my brother. The furniture remains just the same as when I was a boy, and at night I was accommodated with the same bed in which I had often slept before. But my busy thoughts would not let me sleep. I was thinking how God had led me through the journey of life. At last the light of the morning darted through the little window, and then my eye caught sight of the spot where my sainted mother, forty years before, took my hand, and said, "Come, my dear, kneel down with me, and I will go to prayer." This completely overcame me, I seemed to hear the very tones of her voice. I recollected some of her expressions, and I burst into tears, and arose from my bed, and fell upon my knees just on the spot where my mother kneeled, and thanked God that I had once a praying mother. And, oh! if every parent could feel what I felt then, I am sure they would pray with their children as well as pray for them.


Happy the child who is blessed with a praying mother! But the privilege involves the highest responsibility. Sad will be the condition of the man who never added to his mother's prayer his own, and who heard her lessons only to neglect them!--Anon