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         The young mother set her foot on the path of life. "Is the way long?" she said. And her guide said, "Yes, and the way is hard and you will be old before you reach the end of it; but the end will be better than the beginning."

          But the young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed them in the clear streams; and the sun shone on them, and life was good, and the young mother cried, "Nothing will ever be lovelier than this."

          Then night came, and storm, and the path was dark; the children shook with fear and cold; the mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle. And the children said, "Oh mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come," and the mother said, "This is better than the brightness of the day for I have taught my children courage."

          And the morning came and there was a hill ahead; the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary, but at all times she said to the children, "A little patience and we are there." So the children climbed and when they reached the top, they said, "We could not have done it without you mother." And the mother, when she lay down that night, looked up at the stars and  said, "This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned fortitude in the face of hardness. Yesterday I gave them courage; today I have given them strength."

          And the next day brought strange clouds which darkened the earth. Clouds of war, and hate, and evil, and the children groped and stumbled. And the mother said, "Look up, lift your eyes to the light." And the children looked up and saw above the clouds an Everlasting Glory. It guided them and brought them through and beyond the darkness. That night the mother said, "This is the best day of all for I have shown my children God."

          And the days went on, and the weeks, and the years. The mother grew old, and she was little and bent. But the children were tall and strong, and walked with courage. And when the way was hard, when the way was rough, they helped their mother. And lifted her, for she was as light as a feather. And at last they came to a hill, and beyond that hill they could see a shining light and a beautiful road and golden gates flung wide.

          And the mother said, "I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know that the end is better than the beginning, for my children can walk alone, and their children after them." And the children said. "You will always walk with us mother, even when you have gone through the gates."

          And they stood and watched her as she went alone. The gates closed after her and they said, "We cannot see her, but she is with us still. A mother like ours is more than a memory; she is a  living presence."