They listened, and they heard a voice a long way down the avenue
say, "Mother, mother!"

It was the voice of the child who had said, "I am going to
heaven!" and the father cried, "I pray not yet. The sunset is
very near. I pray not yet."

But the voice called, "Mother, mother!" without minding him,
though his hair was now quite white, and tears were on his face.

Then the mother, who was already drawn into the shade of the dark
avenue, and moving away with her arms still around his neck,
kissed him and said, "My dearest, I am summoned, and I go!" And
she was gone. The traveler and he were left alone together.

And they went on and on, until they came very near to the end of
the wood; so near, that they could see the setting sun shining
red before them through the trees.

Yet once more, while he broke his way among the branches, the
traveler lost his friend. He called and called, but there was no
reply, and when he passed out of the wood and saw the peaceful
sun going down upon a wide purple prospect, he came to an old man
sitting upon a fallen tree. He said to the old man, "What do you
here?" And the old man said, with a calm smile, "I am always
remembering. Come and remember with me."

So the traveler sat down by the side of the old man, face to face
with the serene sunset; and all his friends came softly back and
stood around him. The beautiful child, the handsome boy, the