Margery Verner Reed's Short Story: That Night His Sorrow Was Lifted

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A short story by Margery Verner Reed
That Night His Sorrow Was Lifted
________________________________________________ Title: That Night His Sorrow Was Lifted Author: Margery Verner Reed [More Titles by Reed] All ye are Christ's and Christ is God.--Saint Paul HIGH in the mountains, above the cities where all was calm--peaceful-- a golden moon shone down lighting bare branches and fallen leaves-- lighting the dark pines-- IT shone on the lake, in a valley in the mountains, making golden streaks upon the waters-- * * * * * CHRIST walked on earth that night and stopped near the shore of the lake HE looked into its depths-- at the sky--at the moon-- and felt the cold night air on His Face. A GREAT sadness had overcome Him. GOD had reflected a corner of Heaven to men on Earth-- and they did not pause in pleasure or in sorrow-- no one felt the beauty of those mountains. HE stood alone by the lake-- again looked into its depths-- WHAT peace--what beauty-- DOWN below-- men grappled with death not beautiful death but hatred--lust--filled their souls. THEY killed--were killed---- THE agonizing sorrow of Gethsemane again swept over Christ, as He stood by the Lake and wondered if men would ever be worthy of the gift of life-- if they would ever make it beautiful--and not terrible-- THEY were endowed with a certain freedom-- they used it to make wars-- to think of barbarous machines that would kill and torture-- THE fiendish cries of battle were in the great valley below-- CANNONS roared and flashed a red glare into the sky-- TEARS filled His eyes as He thought of the unprepared souls which were being hurled into Eternity-- on both sides of the battle line-- THE broken homes-- HIS heart was breaking in sorrow for the people He loved so well-- MOON streaks were playing on the water-- THE cold night air blew through the trees. CHRIST wept-- men surely were not worthy of life-- of the beauty which filled the world-- HE turned away-- and still hearing the noise of battle-- walked under the pines-- HE came upon a small cabin-- sheltered by tall trees-- the roof was covered by fallen leaves-- a light shone from the window. INSIDE--a babe slept in its cradle-- and the mother gently rocked it-- singing a soft lullaby-- HER thoughts were with him, in the valley below-- battling in the iron clutch of war-- SCARCELY knowing for what--or for whom he fought-- SHE kissed her babe and knelt down before its cradle-- OH Christ-- help me in my hour of need. protect him-- protect my child-- * * * * * THE sorrow of Christ had gone-- THE mother's soul leaned to Him-- for help-- unconsciously she had helped Him-- on that night of beauty in the mountains-- when below--the world was being torn--ravaged-- THE noise of battle died away from Him-- HE heard only the prayer-- the soft breathing of the child and the whispering of the trees-- HE gathered the mother's prayer into His heart and blessed her as He walked away YES--men were worthy-- this hysteria of war would pass PEACE and love would come. [The end] Margery Verner Reed's short story: That Night His Sorrow Was Lifted ________________________________________________ GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

A short story by Margery Verner Reed

That Night His Sorrow Was Lifted