A little way off she saw a clump of trees on a piece of rising ground.  Towards that spot she directed her steps, and strained every nerve to reach it.  At last she succeeded in doing so.

For a moment the poor mother and her child were comparatively safe.  But, on looking around, she saw that the flames were approaching her from opposite directions.  Escape was impossible.  Death—­a terrible death by fire, seemed to be the only thing before her.  She might wrap herself in that great shawl, and perhaps live through it.  But, there were the children.  Of course a mother could not hesitate a moment what to do under such circumstances.  Wrapping the baby round and round in the folds of the shawl, she laid it carefully down, at the foot of one of the trees.  Then, taking off her outer clothing, she covered the other child with it.  She laid her down beside the baby, and then stretched herself across them.  In a few moments the helpless little ones were sound asleep.  The long hours of the night passed.  The raging flames licked up the withered foliage about that clump of trees, and then left their blackened trunks to the keenness of the wind and frost.

The next day the heart-broken husband and father returned to find his home burnt, and his family gone—­he knew not whither.  He set out to search for his lost treasures.  He found them by that clump of trees.  There lay his wife—­her hair and eyebrows, her face and neck scorched and blackened by the fire—­but her body frozen stiff.  Whether she perished by the flames or the frost no one ever knew.  But, on lifting her burnt form they found, warm and cozy beneath, her two sleeping children.  The elder child as they roused her, opened her eyes exclaiming, “Mamma, is it morning?” Yes:  it was morning with that faithful mother, in the bright world to which she had gone!

Now, suppose that those children, as they grew up, should have had preserved among their treasures a piece of the burnt dress, or a lock of the scorched hair, of their devoted mother.  As they looked at it, every day, it would be in remembrance of her.  How touchingly it would tell of her great love for them, in being willing to lay down her life to save theirs!  And how that thought would thrill their hearts and make them anxious to do all they could to show their respect and love for such a mother!

And so the broken bread and the poured out wine of this solemn sacrament should melt our hearts in the remembrance of the wonderful love of Christ to us, and should lead us to show our love to him by keeping his commandments.

And as we keep this solemn memorial service, how well we may say, in the words of the hymn: 

    “According to thy gracious word,
    In meek humility,
    This will we do, our dying Lord,
    We will remember thee. 
    Thy body, broken for our sake,
    Our bread from heaven shall be: 
    Thy sacramental cup we take,
    And thus remember thee.