Edgar A. Guest,
Making the House a Home
“ The home was being sanctified by her presence. We had come into a new realm of happiness.But a home cannot be builded always on happiness. We were to learn that through bitter experience. We had seen white crepe on other doors, without ever thinking that some day it might flutter on our own. We had witnessed sorrow, but had never suffered it. Our home had welcomed many a gay and smiling visitor; but there was a grim and sinister one to come, against whom no door can be barred.After thirteen months of perfect happiness, its planning and dreaming, the baby was taken from us. ”
