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During the battle of Gettysburg, while a thousand cannon shook the hills and the air quivered with the rapid concussions, there came a lull for a moment. Not a gun was heard far or near. In that pause a soldier heard a little bird singing sweetly in a tree that grew close by. When the crash began again the bird was silent. It sang only in the momentary pauses of conflict.
So it is with this world’s joy. Now and then there is a note of peace heard, as if an angel were singing in the man’s life; in the brief pauses of discontent and care and struggle it is heard. But soon the strife begins again, and the bird note of peace is hushed. When the waves of sorrow break its voice is drowned. But one who rejoices in God has a joy that sings on through all the roar of this world’s battle, through all the darkness of the night.