“I once read the story of an angel who stole out of heaven and came to
this world one bright sunshiny day; roamed through the field, forest, city
and hamlet, and as the sun went down, plumed his wings for the return
flight. The angel said: ‘Now that my visit is over, before I return
I must gather some mementoes of my trip.’ He looked at the beautiful
flowers in the garden and said, ‘How lovely and fragrant,’ and plucked
the rarest roses, made a bouquet, and said, ‘I see nothing more beautiful
and fragrant than these flowers.’ The angel looked further and saw a
bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked child, and said, ‘That baby is prettier than
the flowers; I will take that, too;’ and, looking beyond to the cradle,
he saw a mother’s love pouring out over her babe like a gushing spring,
and the angel said, ‘The mother’s love is the prettiest thing I have
seen; I will take that too.’ And with these three treasures the heavenly
messenger winged his flight to the pearly gates, saying: ‘Before I go in
I must examine the mementoes of my trip to the earth.’ He looked at the
flowers; they had withered. He looked at the baby’s smile; it had faded.
He looked at the mother’s love; it shone in all its pristine beauty. Then
he threw away the withered flowers, cast aside the faded smile, and with
the mother’s love pressed to his breast, swept through the gates into the
city, shouting that the only thing he had found that would retain its
fragrance from earth to heaven is a mother’s love.”