EASTER ASSURANCE

Life after death? Why doubt it?

It is the natural way.

Matter, disintegrated,

Takes form and life from decay.

Born from the lowly egg is

The song of the nightingale,

The plumage of the peacock,

And the modest quail.

A little speck of matter,

A seed dropped into the sod,

Becomes a beautiful aster,

A daisy or goldenrod.

The ugly caterpillar,

So displeasing to the eye,

Wraps itself in its coffin

To emerge a butterfly.

And coal, though black, unlovely,

Refined by volcanic fire,

Becomes a sparkling, precious stone -

The diamond we admire.

Change but not destruction

Of matter is God’s plan;

Surly, then He does not destroy

The spirit and soul of man.

If ugliness breeds beauty

In the material sphere,

In what celestial glory

Must a soul, reborn, appear!

Grace E. Richardson - My father’s Aunt Grace,