Bloomington High School, The Gothic, 1915, Page 15

Description:	FifteenThe Gothicbelled at it. The feeling came to him that there was some-thing ajar in a universe of souls created by God, whichwould make souls seek isolation in order to be with God.He wanted to go crashing through the valley. He steppedupon a dead branch, and it snapped under his feet. It wasalmost like artillery in such surroundings. He went fartherdown the hills into the valley, where the monastery ofTroyon lay in its solemnity. He found a stream of limpidwater which gushed forth out of the hills, and near it, inthe soft sand, he found a mans foot-print, and still othermarks were in the sand. So he concluded that a monk hadbeen praying there. Presently he came upon the monk, whostarted perceptibly on seeing a stranger in the valley.Dost know, said the monk, in even tones, that thisis the Valley of Wormwood, where those of the monasteryof Troyon labor?I know, said the stranger, that this is the Valley ofWormwood. That is why I am here.And wherefore?From pure curiosity, father. I would what is that ser-vice one may do for God in the wilds of nature, that onemay rest in the midst of his people.It is claimed of Troyon, replied the monk, that wehave found Jacobs ladder with angels upon it, descendingto provide for our bodies and ascending to rule our souls.And art happy, father, in the company of the angels?Dost not wreary sometimes of angels and long for one humansoul?One human soul! One human soul! Son, what mean-est thou ?What I have said, returned the younger man.The monk stood in deep thought and then, as if onlyGod heard him, or he were saying his prayers, he spoke.One human soul! In the path before the church atChatillon! A bird chirped and brought her from the thoughtin my mind to the living presence--before my eyes. I lefther standing in the path. One human soul, and her name--The monk paused, and turned his countenance full uponthe stranger.Had I not left her, never to see her again, I might havebeen the father of a son as old as thou. But the Valley ofWormwood would never have fulfilled the dream of the re-ligious life my mother had for me.Was it better, thinkest thou, father, to omit the dutyto the living rather than to the dead? How dost know theduty to the dead did rest with the life of the living?Why dost ask what thou dost know, son?I know nothing, save that my mother lived and died amost unhappy woman because of some folly like this Worm-wood isolation, begging thy pardon, father.Oh! Thy mothers name ? Was it perchance--Mo mothers name was Alith. She was betrothed toWalter of Lisle, but he married the church instead.The monk looked the stranger over from head to heel ineloquent silence.One human soul! Thou mightest have been the son ofWalter of Lisle.And then, in ominous silence and with bowed head, heturned away. The interview was ended. The son of Alithwatched him go, and broke the brush with noisy impatienceas he climbed the hills out of the silent valley.MISS SCHLOTZHAUER,MR. H. L. SMITH,MR. HUDELSON,Judges.B. H. S. 1915The prodigal batted 1,000 when he made his home-run
Source:	http://cdm17129.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/hs-bloom/id/1537
Collection:	Bloomington High School

Further information on this record can be found at its source.