ABSTRACT
Death may indeed be an angel, in the old sense of the word, a messenger of God, of a Father Who loves the little ones, as tenderly even as the mother, whom he has taken to rest with Him, and from Whom all her love must have proceeded. Who knows, better than even she, what her children need. Who may mean many things by this deed, more and deeper things than we can guess; but love, entire love the ground of them all.
