“Not at all, I love to hear them. It’s the kirk bell; and whenever I hear it, it makes me think of the hymns we used to sing: ‘Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing, The voice of Jesus sounds o’er land and sea.’” She then added, “It’s His voice, and it’s sic a comfort to me. I aye weary to hear it.” CHAPTER III _Hymns Mothers Loved_ It may be disputed whether religion is an inheritance or an acquisition but the fact remains that the influence of personality is the final explanation. And who has exercised such a power more beneficially than mothers? They constitute the heart of every home, the first and the last in everything. Whoever may fail us in the tumult and struggle of life, our mothers have never gone back on us but have remained steadfast even at the cost of incredible sacrifices. Indeed, mothers hold the key to every difficult situation in life, and they have opened doors closed to every other approach. During the World War most of the letters from the Front were written by the boys to their mothers, and this daily mail ran far into the tons. By their faith, devotion and consolation our mothers have done for us what no other mortals have ever been capable of doing. Even when we are inclined to make an exception of our wives, it is really the mother instinct in them which makes them so indispensable to us. Quick in sympathy, ready in resource, patient in trials, versatile in ability and adaptability, mothers stand sentinel in the crises of life, and because of intuition and inspiration they are the saviors of society. God be praised for our mothers, and may the blessing of the Eternal Father abide with all mothers, that they may continue to fulfill their gracious ministry for the highest welfare of mankind. This sheaf of testimonies bears glowing witness from grateful hearts to the sacramental virtue of mothers. May their memory be forever blessed! The Bible and the hymnal were the two books from which our mothers received their spiritual replenishment. This poem by the Rev. G. H. Winkworth tells of the hymnal which he fittingly describes as The Old Brown Book “The old brown book was worn and finger-stained. To touch it gently children’s hands were trained. It had within the hymns that mother sang In peaceful worship after church bells rang. I hear her voice again so sweet and clear, According praise to Christ her Saviour dear. The old brown book had words that blessed her soul; She sang them, ‘While the nearer waters roll.’ ’Tis years since mother gently passed to rest, And hands were gently folded on her breast, She sleeps, but in our ears the old hymns ring— The sweet old hymns that mother used to sing. The years are passing onward one by one, And with them changes to the church have come; The old brown book no longer fills its place; We struggle now to sing new hymns of grace.