Uncloistered

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  “She gazed ahead through a long reach of future days strung together like pearls in a rosary, every one like the others, and all smooth and flawless and innocent, and her heart went up in thankfulness. Outside was the fervid summer afternoon; the air was filled with the sounds of the busy harvest of men and birds and bees; there were halloos, metallic clatterings, sweet calls, and long hummings. Louisa sat, prayerfully numbering her days, like an uncloistered nun.” A New England Nun By Mary E. Wilkins Freeman (1852–1930)

Easier to get in than out.

The time was 1884.
The place: Montgomery, Michigan.

A spiritualist was stricken with a disease and his life was ebbing away. He had such a hatred for Christ that open his death, he requested that his body not be carried to a church for funeral services nor should any pastor be called upon to officiate.

As he lay in his bed dying, he turned his face to the wall and began to talk to himself about his future. His wife, sitting by his bedside, saw that he was greatly troubled and tied to comfort and console him by telling him not to be afraid. She told him that his spirit would return to her and they would still be with each other then as now. But he would not find comfort in her words. With a look of despair, he said, “I see a great high wall rising around me and am finding out at last—when it is too late—that it is easier to get into Hell than it will be to get out.”

A few minutes later he died to receive his reward of unrightousness.

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