William C. was a simple-hearted Christian, whose soul glowed with love to the Saviour who had done so much for him. Though in humble, life, he was the honored instrument of leading many to a saving knowledge of Christ, and on the spring-morning of which I write he was on his way to a distant part, where a large number of men who worked in the tin mines lived with their families, and he had been invited to preach among them the glad tidings of salvation.
But he had reached the toll-gate, where in the days of my story all travelers were required to stop and pay a—small sum towards keeping the roads in repair.
A young girl came out to open the gate. She had light curly hair, and her face seemed almost as bright as if it had caught some of the sunshine. C. loved young people and children, and his
“Good morning, my dear,” was said with such a friendly smile that she felt, though she could not have told why, aracted towards the stranger.
“Good morning, sir,”
He handed her the toll money and rode on. But he had not gone far before a shadow seemed to come, over his spirit.
“I have missed an opportunity,” he said sadly to himself. “She is such a sweet girl, and as bright as the morning, but I wonder if she knows and loves the Lord Jesus— if her happy face is the outcome of a heart at rest? Is she dwelling beneath the shadow of His almighty wings? And I let her come and go without saying one word for my Lord and Master; but if God will, I shall be coming this way again, and then perhaps He may give me another opportunity.”
Many gospel meetings were held, large numbers came to hear the glad tidings, and many hearts were touched by the story of a Saviour’s love, and some, many years afterward, spoke of those meetings as the time when thee trusted the Lord Jesus Christ as their own personal Saviour.
Preaching, visiting and letter writing made William C.’s days very busy ones. Still, fully occupied as he was, he did not forget the young girl he had seen at the toll-gate, and every time he thought of her he prayed that the Lord whom he served would by the gentle, patient teaching of the Holy Spirit prepare her heart to receive the message he longed to give.
It was again a bright morning when he came within sight of the toll-gate, and the same sunny-faced maiden came out to open it for him. She remembered him and gave him a smile of recognition. He dismounted, and said,
“Good morning, my dear. Will you tell me your name?”
“Joan, sir.”
“Well, Joan, this is a very pretty place that you live in. Do on ever feel lonely here?”
“Sometimes, in the winter, when father is at work, and my sister is away, and no one comes this way.”
“Do on know what it means to dwell beneath the shadow of the Almighty?”
“O, no, sir, I am not good enough for that. Perhaps the angels may be there, but not a poor girl like me.”
“Joan, do you know that the Lord Jesus loves you so much that He died upon the cross to save you, and if you will only trust Him He will wash away till your sins in His own precious blood and make you His own forever?”
Joan did not answer, but her tears were falling fast. At that moment her father came up, and holding out his hand, said,
“Mr. C., I am right glad to see you again. Three years ago this month I heard you preach, and that night was the turning-point in my life. For a long time I had been anxious about my soul, but that night I saw that all I had to do was to trust the work already done by the Lord upon the cross; and ever since, though I am no preacher, I get a few of the neighbors in on Sunday evenings, and read a chapter out of the Bible, and try to tell them what the Lord has done for my soul, and if you can stop with us all night I can get about twenty to come in, after their day’s work is done, and they would he very pleased to have you speak to them. But Joan is a strange girl; I never can get her to come in to our little meetings, and I feel sure she is not happy.”
They turned into me house, where Joan had already taken refuge. The toll-keeper was soon called away to open the gate for another traveler, and during his absence C. felt sure that he heard the sound of sobs from the kitchen. Opening the door gently, he found Joan crying bitterly.
“O, sir,” she sobbed out, “I would like to dwell under the shadow of God’s wings, but I cannot, no, never; I am such a naughty girl.”
“Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved,” were the words that fell upon her ear, and as they knelt together in prayer, Joan trusted herself to the Saviour.
She needed no urging to attend the meeting held that night in her father’s cottage, but was there with a bright face and a praise-filled heart. Soon after, the Lord gave her the joy of leading her sister, who was several years older than herself, to the Saviour whom she had learned to love and trust.
ML 09/27/1942