Will those Visions come again
O, I long to soar back to Mars,
To live in a better land than ours;
To be loved by him always the same.
“O, Cathy, what a lovely, impulsive bride you are!”
The girls were deeply in love with each other. Ruth was reading to Cathy
on the front porch, both being seated in a low-swinging hammock.
These dear, sweet companions had been laughing and talking over their
new dresses, and reading all day. Cathy wore a dainty blue lawn; Ruth
was dressed all in pure white—she felt happiest when dressed in white.
Suddenly the clouds turned black. An awful storm was brewing. The
lightning came down in fiery forked tongues, and lighted up the awful
darkness. The tall, graceful pines swayed and moaned. They bowed their
haughty heads nearly to the earth. At times the whole country seemed on
fire with brilliant phosphorescent lights. The storm blasts were furious
in their battle with the pines of the forest. It would seem that the
storm fiends were angry at the stability, solidity, and placidity of
mother earth.
Ruth and Cathy had just finished reading Milton’s Paradise Lost. As they
were seriously discussing this masterpiece, there was a sudden, terrific
flash of lightning that blinded the girls a moment; it shocked Cathy,
she was afraid and could not speak or move. She remembered now all
Cresto told her on the island of Catalina. Half-stunned, she stared
wildly about her, grasping the edge of the hammock for support. Slowly
her head turned with ominous foreboding to a white heap on the porch.
Poor Catherine’s bosom welled within her. The emotion seemed too great
for human endurance. She sank forward on the body with a heartrending
sob. She remained a helpless, convulsed heap on the dead. Fear alone had
killed our delicate little Ruth, who had been suffering for days from
heart trouble, unknown to all. Again the lightning flashed. Cathy saw in
front of her as plain as a human, a tall, dark, handsome young
gentleman, with lovely, flowing white robes, full of light, bend over
Ruth’s lifeless form. Another bright flash of lightning and she
distinctly saw the lovely Ruth all in gauzy, fluffy, shimmering, pure
white, her robes full of light, too—by Cresto’s side, smiling.
“O! I never saw such dazzling, clinging, beautiful golden white robes on
any one as Ruth now wore. She looked like a fairy bride, much smaller
than she looked yesterday. I wondered if any angel in Heaven could dress
more beautiful? It is worth a fortune just to see this wonderful sight!
I am glad I came to see this resurrection of Ruth. I thank God for my
clairvoyance now. O! how lovely to know there is no death! Cresto and
his sweet mother wound a thin, long white silk veil around her head and
shoulders. For a moment Cresto held her close to his heart. He kissed
her tenderly and lovingly. Then the two smiled and waved their fairy
hands good bye at me. For the first time I saw Ruth and Cresto were not
alone. Cresto’s mother and many angels were leading the band. I saw them
distinctly rise higher and higher, up, up, into the dark clouds. They
floated away from life’s storms and the clouds and all darkness; away
from cold death, to immortal life; away into God’s bright blue
sunlight!”
As she watched the lovely golden white robes float away in the distance,
Cathy raised her arms in prayer.
“O! my Divine Heavenly Father and His Holy Angels, Will Thou resurrect
me to immortality? Will Thou protect me and those I love, and keep my
soul pure? May I prove there is no death to others and serve Thee, My
God, faithfully through all eternity? Amen.”
That lonely, dark, stormy night Cathy cried and sobbed for her lovely
Ruth. O! how terrible to be all alone at the hour of death!
Cathy’s great sorrow was darker than the night. Absolutely exhausted
from crying she fell asleep and dreamed she saw Ruth’s sylph-like form.
She was dressed the same as she was that night of her glorious
resurrection. Ruth, pale and trembling, stood gazing vacant-eyed, on the
immensity of nature. As each stroke flashed, Cathy shrieked in terror.
Ruth stood pale and motionless with head uplifted and nostrils dilated
in the ecstacy of the moment, the light of heaven beamed across her
soulful face. Her body became brilliantly illuminated, the pines could
be dimly seen through her almost transparent figure. She lifted her
fragile arms heavenward and slowly ascended, the glory shining around
her.
A month later Cathy went home to her husband, to love, to comfort and to
happiness. There is no happiness like a husband’s immortal love; perfect
love never dies.
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[Illustration: chapter headpiece]