Tonight it rains. Mostly it is a quiet rain. But now and then a ragged branch of lightning and an angry burst of thunder breaks the steady, monotonous sigh of the rain.
It is nature weeping. Like the mother she is, she weeps softly, as though to hide her tears, yet her heart rebels. Now and then her eyes flash and her voice comes forth, scolding angrily. But the rebellion passes and once more the tears fall softly, without hope.
This is the world, this place that God made for Adam that he might have joy. Yet into its seas and its rich, dark soil pours the red blood of its young, the young who should be the hope and the glory of tomorrow. Why is it so? Why must men turn their faces from the light toward the dark? Why must they bury themselves deep in the mire that is greed and hate and envy? Do they believe that hidden treasures lie there? Do they not know that it is but a quagmire that tricks them and makes them slaves to evil and, in the end, drags them down to a destiny of defeat?
"The Mother" weeps now. She shall weep again and again in the dark days that lie ahead, but tears are for healing. They cleanse bitterness.
The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline
Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline
Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.
First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118
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