Even the word fills us with trepidation. The last thing we want is grief. O, we will speak of the annoyances of daily life as “trouble” or “hard times,” but grief is not the dissatisfaction of a jaundiced culture frustrated that some object of its desire, pleasure, or convenience is withheld, lost, or made more difficult to obtain. Grief is agony of soul and vexation of spirit. It is misery and miserable. It is the scream of the bereft heart before the yawning chasm of the grave. It is the aching of a parent as he watches his profligate child destroy his life. It is the inconsolable
