“By easy interpretation: ‘Mother of Jesus, consoler of the sorrowing!’” responded the young man.
“Ah, like all consolations nigh to me, this is only stone and set in deep shadows! It can not come to me!”
“True, yon form is passionless stone; but the truth eternal, which it emblemizes, is living and fervent.”
“Life and fervor? Death and sorrow submerge both!”
“There is mother-love in the heart of God; to one so nearly orphan as my friend, it must be comforting to look up believing that in heaven there are fatherhood, motherhood and home! This is the sermon in yon stone.”
Then the chaplain gently, reverently drew the sorrow stricken maiden toward the “Refuge” and she followed, unresisting. As they moved along, she essayed to seek further acquaintance with her guide.
“May I know the chaplain’s name?”
“Certainly; to those that are intimates, ‘Brother’ or ‘Friend;’ for such I’ve renounced my former self and name.”
“But if I should need and wish to send for you? I might. I could not call for ‘Brother.’”