Boarding schools -- Fiction; Family life -- New England -- Fiction; New England -- Fiction; Schools -- Fiction
The fame she never did quite accept; for it takes very little fire to
make a great deal of smoke nowadays, and notoriety is not real glory.
The fortune she could not doubt, and gratefully received; though it was
not half so large a one as a generous world reported it to be. The tide
having turned continued to rise, and floated the family comfortably into
a snug harbour where the older members could rest secure from storms,
and whence the younger ones could launch their boats for the voyage of
life.
All manner of happiness, peace, and plenty came in those years to bless
the patient waiters, hopeful workers, and devout believers in the wisdom
and justice of Him who sends disappointment, poverty, and sorrow to try
the love of human hearts and make success the sweeter when it comes.
The world saw the prosperity, and kind souls rejoiced over the improved
fortunes of the family; but the success Jo valued most, the happiness
that nothing could change or take away, few knew much about.
It was the power of making her mother's last years happy and serene; to
see the burden of care laid down for ever, the weary hands at rest, the
dear face untroubled by any anxiety, and the tender heart free to pour
itself out in the wise charity which was its delight. As a girl, Jo's
favourite plan had been a room where Marmee could sit in peace and enjoy
herself after her hard, heroic life. Now the dream had become a happy
fact, and Marmee sat in her pleasant chamber with every comfort and
luxury about her, loving daughters to wait on her as infirmities
increased, a faithful mate to lean upon, and grand-children to brighten
the twilight of life with their dutiful affection. A very precious time
to all, for she rejoiced as only mothers can in the good fortunes of
their children. She had lived to reap the harvest she sowed; had seen
prayers answered, hopes blossom, good gifts bear fruit, peace and
prosperity bless the home she had made; and then, like some brave,
patient angel, whose work was done, turned her face heavenward, glad to
rest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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