A Dream of Home

“After one of our late offensives,” writes a soldier, “feeling tired and somewhat home-sick, I lay down, and, pulling out my pocket Testament and my latest letter from home, I started reading. I had just finished the 14th chapter of St. John, ‘My peace I give to you,’ Then taking up my mother’s letter, I read it over and over. At length overcome with fatigue, I fell asleep to dream of mother and peace. I dreamed I was a child again, with mother at my side telling her ‘Go-to-bed stories,’ and smoothing my brow with her soft hand. Presently the guns started booming, and I realized that I was not in dear old ‘Blighty,’ but ‘somewhere in France,’ with the trench dog licking my fevered brow.”
The mother’s love is always with the soldier—the dear home-love of his childhood. Thousands of mother’s prayers are recalled on the battlefields today, and the texts learned at the mother’s knee have often brought her boy to Jesus.