nature about her, the blue sky with its sun, moon and stars above her,
the faces of her loved ones, and yet at ninety-two she said: "I never
worry, never think disagreeable things, never find fault with anything
or anybody. If in all the world there is a happier being than myself,
I would like to shake that one's hand." No wonder out of such
contentment came such songs as, "Jesus is calling," "I am Thine, O
Lord," "Safe in the arms of Jesus."

How different the cultured young woman, with all her senses preserved,
who after passing through a flower garden where perfect sight had
feasted on the beauty of the scene said:

"To think of summers yet to come,
That I am not to see;
To think a weed is yet to bloom,
From dust that I shall be."

Poor soul! Instead of enjoying the summer she had, she was coveting
all the summers between her and eternity. Instead of thanking God for
the immortality of the soul when done with the body, she was
disappointed because she couldn't carry the old body along with her.
Don't let these things trouble you. Live one summer so you will be
worthy to breathe the air of the next if you live to see it; take care
of your body so it will make a decent weed if God chooses to make one
out of your remains.

Enjoy what you have, don't covet what you have not, thank God for your
home on earth, follow Fanny Crosby's receipt for contentment and you
will be happy enough to shake hands with her in the "Land of the
Leal."