3 Your father is no more on earth; your mother grieves; and none can comfort her. She wonders whether you are still alive or not; she longs to see you once again.
4 And Jesus bowed his head in silent thought; and then he wrote. Of what he wrote this is the sum:
5 My mother, noblest of woman kind; A man just from my native land has brought me word that father is no more in flesh, and that you grieve, and are disconsolate.
6 My mother, all is well; is well for father and is well for you.
7 His work in this earth-round is done, and it is nobly done.
8 In all the walks of life men cannot charge him with deceit, dishonesty, nor wrong intent.
9 Here in this round he finished many heavy tasks, and he has gone from hence prepared to solve the problems of the round of soul.
10 Our Father-God is with him there, as he was with him here; and there his angel guards his footsteps lest he goes astray.
11 Why should you weep? Tears cannot conquer grief. There is no power in grief to mend a broken heart.
12 The plane of grief is idleness; the busy soul can never grieve; it has no time for grief.