LIZA W— was born in the heart of the wild mountains of Amatola, in Kaffraria.
The brother officers in the regiment to which her father belonged in that place, called the new-comer, “The Little Amatola,” and her parents added this to her name in memory of the place where she was born. When Amatola was four years of age, her father was sent on military duty to China, and her mother went with her little child, back to their home in England.
But two short years had passed, when the little flower from the far mountains of Amatola began to fade. Owing to a fall that the child had while in London, symptoms of that dreadful and hopeless trouble, spinal disease, made their appearance; and now the buoyant, joyous days of this little one were over. Gradually health and strength went from her, and at the end of two years more, she was laid upon her bed, not to rise again.
As we look on our picture today, at the little girl lying on the sofa, among the cushions, with her friend seated at her side, we think of poor little Amatola. For her, the springing step, the bounding leap of joyous childhood were forever past and She was a hopeless, helpless sufferer. She was a child intelligent beyond her years. From her cradle she had been surrounded by “the pomp and circumstances of war;” and from her earliest days she had been accustomed to hear the quick, sharp word of command given, and instantly obeyed. In her nature she was imperious and quick in word and deed. For such a disposition, the heavy affliction that came upon little Amatola, was all the heavier to bear, and especially so as she did not yet know the grace of God in her heart.
Time passed wearily on, and her sufferings increased. Often she was unable to sleep at night because of the severe pain. At last the time came when her mother had to give her this sad message: “The doctor says that you must die!” On hearing this, the poor child wept with anguish; for hope is strong in the toast of the young; and to Amatola, the thought of death was terrible. But after this outburst of grief had passed, she listened calmly to the precious truth of salvation through the blood of Christ alone; and as the tearful pleadings of her mother’s voice fell upon her ear, the Lord graciously owned the word, and the suffering child was made to see herself in the light. One by one the sins of her little life rose up before her and were, confessed to her mother. She saw that she was a sinner in God’s sight, and this made her wretched, and with tears she begged her mother to, pray for her. Day and night the dear mother pleaded in answer to this request.
One day the dying child was pointed to a text of Scripture that hung upon the wall:
“The blood of Jesus Christ His Son, cleanseth us from all sin.” ยค Jno. 1:7.
As she thought upon these precious words, the Spirit of God applied them in power, and the fears and dread of death all fled before the blessed light which broke in upon the soul of little Amatola.
Her mother, going into her room shortly afterwards, heard these words: “Oh, I feel so peaceful and happy now! The load is all gone; I know and feel that my sins are all forgiven!” When the eye of the dear child met her, no shadow lingered in it; and the low, sweet voice had lost its tone of anxious care.
From that hour, Amatola had full assurance that her sins were forgiven, and that everlasting life was hers. From that hour, too, a great change was seen in her ways. She did not order her nurse about as she had done before, but would ask her graciously for what she wanted. And she became very patient and submissive. On one occasion, speaking of her intense suffering, she said: “If my legs had not drawn up, I should not have gone to heaven.”
Do we not in this see beautiful submission; and that in a child not yet eleven years of age! She recognized the necessity of the Lord’s dealing thus with her; and, although in anguish of body, she was submissive in spirit. She had indeed learned to “glory in tribulations,” even while on the rack.
A Christian friend who visited her, remarked that she was sorry to see her so changed. Looking up with a lovely smile, the dear child replied: “Oh, it will not be for long, I am soon going home.” Thus triumphantly she could look forward with joy, knowing she would soon be with Jesus.
On one occasion, she said: “Mamma, I do try to be patient, because it will be doing something for Jesus.”
How many of my readers are trying to serve Jesus by being patient? In the Christian life, patience is one of the things which God calls upon us to add. See 2 Peter 1:6. And He tells us in James: “Let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.”
May this and other important lessons be learned from the life of dear little Amatola!
ML 03/08/1903