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In a sick room there was a little rose bush in a pot in the window. There was only one rose on the bush, and its face was turned full toward the light. This fact was noticed and spoken of; when one said that the rose would look no other way save toward the light. Experiments had been made with it; it had been turned away from the window, its face toward the gloom of the interior, but in a little time it would resume its old position. With wonderful persistence it refused to keep its face toward the darkness and insisted on ever looking toward the light.
The rose has its lesson for us. We should never allow ourselves to face toward life’s gloom; we should never sit down in the shadows of any sorrow and let the night darken over us into the gloom of despair; we should turn our faces away toward the light and quicken every energy for braver duty, and truer, holier service. Grief should always make us better and give us new skill and power; it should make our hearts softer, our spirits kindlier, our touch more gentle; it should teach us its holy lessons, and we should learn them, and then go on with sorrow’s sacred ordination upon us to new love and better service.