"Do you think—can it be possible that she sends them?" said he, in a low, hesitating tone.
"Prayer is mighty, my son."
"And have you been praying for her all this time, mother?"
"Yes, and will continue to do so to the last."
"Oh, mother! I have lost hope. My heart has been full of bitterness toward her, and I have felt that God was against it all."
"God is not against her learning to know Him, which is life. Jesus has loved her all the time, and she has wronged Him more than she has you."
Dennis bowed his head on his mother's hand, and she felt hot tears fall upon it. At last he murmured: "You are indeed going to heaven soon, dear mother, for your language is not of earth. When will such a spirit dwell within me?"
"Again remember your mother's words," she answered, gently; "prayer is mighty."
"Mother," said he, with a sudden earnestness, "do you think you can pray for us in heaven?"
"I know of no reason to the contrary."