Many years ago, as I was walking along a quiet street in a little country town, I heard a voice say, “Go and see Rachel.” I started, and looked around, but there was no one in sight. I looked up at the windows of the houses, but no one was to be seen. Only some children were playing in the distance, too far away for their voices to have reached me. Besides, it was not the voice of a child that spoke to me. Puzzled, I walked on, when distinctly again came the voice, “Go and see Rachel,” and then I immediately answered, “Yes, Lord, I will go.”
Now Rachel was an old lady of ninety-two who lived in a room over an archway at the end of the street. She was allowed by the parish two shillings a week and a loaf. The two shillings paid the rent of her room, so (excepting the loaf) she was dependent on charity for her food. I was soon knocking at her door, and when I entered I found old Rachel sitting up in bed clapping her hands and looking very happy indeed. “Well, Rachel,” I said, “you seem very bright today; what is it?” “Oh,” she answered, “it is because I am so pleased to see you. I have nothing at all in the house, and I have been praying the Lord to send someone to help me; and now He has sent you.” “Yes, Rachel,” I said, “the Lord has surely sent me to help you.”
Needless to say, I hurried out and bought her the things she needed, confident indeed that I had had “a message from God” that day. Old Rachel told me that another day she had had only two potatoes and two little slices of bacon, and she had sent one potato and one piece of bacon to a poor widow who lived below. “Is that all you had then, in the house, Rachel?” I asked. And she said, “Yes.”
A. M. L.