Kind words spoken in the ears of a living man, woman or child, are worth a great deal more that the most complimentary utterances over the coffin of the dead. The time to carry flowers is when they can be looked upon and handled, when their fragrance can be inhaled and their beauty enjoyed; when the attention bestowed will warm the heart and awaken more. Love poured out at family alters, in the social circle, and amid the struggles and conflicts of life, may lift up the fallen, cheer the fainting heart, convert sorrow into joy, causing many a flower to spring up and bloom along the rugged pathways of this world. Were this done, there would be smiles instead of tears, rosy cheeks, where now there are dull and haggard ones, light in the places of darkness, and a terrestial paradise, perhaps, in the raging warring elements of an earthly pandemonium.
What a pleasant thought that when we come to die the people will show us respect, that they will gather around our bier and religiously lay our remains away in the earth for the angels to watch over till the morning of the resurrection. Perhaps a tear will be dropped on our coffin or our grave, and appreciative words not entirely around the bier of the dead would encircle the home of the living?
