SHE was rapidly passing away, after some months’ suffering, borne with patience and resignation, for she knew whom she believed it was always a privilege to visit her in her illness. Uniformly cheerful, she would tell of the goodness of the Lord, and how wonderful were the proofs of His fatefulness and loving kindness.
Her dying testimony is truly now the comfort of her bereaved parents. As the last night wore on, the mother reclining and watching by her daughter’s side, she suddenly asked what time it was, and when told, she threw her arms round her parent, remarking that it would not be long now—that she felt a change, and it had been a hard struggle through the deep waters, but the conflict was over, and she knew she should soon be at home, adding, “Jesus is mine. Mother, meet me in heaven.”
Then turning to a neighbor, who had come in to share the loneliness of the parents so soon to be deprived of their last loving child, she looked earnestly at him, and said: “Jack, what are you thinking about? Where are you going? I am going to heaven.” Repeating these words and similar expressions, she waved her hand high, saying, “Meet me in heaven”; then, with a little sigh, was gone.
F. S.