The next day Lesina went down the mountainside carrying a heavy bundle, accompanied by Palko with a smaller one. As the sun rose at the valley’s end, Lesina turned to the little boy.
“Palko,” he said, “the other day you said your sins were pardoned; how do you know that?”
“Because I have confessed my sins to the Lord Jesus, and He has taken them all away, I asked Him to and He has done it.”
Lesina looked wistfully at the boy as he said: “That’s something I cannot, and never will be able, to say.”
“Why, Uncle, how can you say that? Jesus said He has power to forgive sins, and He is so kind He will do the same for you as He has done for me.”
Lesina shook his head. “No, not me. He cannot pardon me. Listen, Palko, I will tell you now what I have told no one else here. I’m telling you only that you may pray for me, so it will be a secret between us. Some years ago I had a happy home with my beautiful young wife and our little one, a boy of twenty months. Gradually, however, I began to drink heavily and often I came home in a disgraceful condition. One day I entered the house in this state, and seeing only our little boy playing in the front parlor — he had only just began to toddle about — I took him for a walk. My wife, who was sleeping in the next room, was informed by a neighbor when she awakened that I had been seen about an hour before heading for the path to the forest, taking our son with me. On returning late that night, I was alone! Where I had been, God alone knows!” Overcome by emotion it was some minutes before Lesina could proceed with his story. “Frantically my wife questioned me as to the whereabouts of our boy, but I could only shake my head stupidly at her. When I came to myself, my wife was nowhere to be seen. We found her at last on the mountainside calling wildly the name of her little son. Oh, how we searched for him, for I had not the least idea where I had been, nor where the poor little lad had wandered. Weeks and weeks went by, and still we searched nook and cranny and precipice, fearful sometimes of what we might find at the base of a rocky chasm, but it was all in vain. At last the strain became too great for my poor wife, and her reason gave way. Oh, it was terrible to see her in such a state, so young and so beautiful. At times she is quite well, and then, suddenly putting a shawl over her head, she will rush from the house to disappear up the mountainside calling for her little one. I can only quiet her by going with her until, completely exhausted, she is willing to be led home again. How many times have I seen her walking vacantly from one side of the room to the other trying to arrange the little empty cradle, which still stands in its accustomed corner after all these years! Never, never, shall I touch a drop of the accursed drink again, but how shall my vow of abstinence bring us back our boy? When we were reading the other day the story of the poor man possessed with devils whom Jesus healed, I could not help thinking of how the drink demon had taken hold of me and had gradually brought me to ruin, and my family as well. No! No! Palko, there is no pardon for me!”
“Oh, poor Uncle Lesina! Don’t say that!” exclaimed Palko. “Let us ask God to give you back your son, and also that He may pardon your sin and heal your dear wife. I’m sure He will do it!”
Lesina only shook his head, and then turned to Palko, saying, “What do you want me to bring you when I come back?”
Well,” said Palko quickly, “I should like a copy book and a pencil.”
“All right, you shall have them, for all your kindnesses to me. Your grandfather has given me your money to buy you a new suit, and I shall add to that a hat and shoes for the school next winter.”
“A new hat!” Palko cried. “That will be wonderful, for I’ve worn this one so long that it’s almost falling to pieces. I have been such an expense to my poor grandfather. I hope I may be able to pay him back some day.”
“That should not be necessary if you are his grandson; he should be glad to have a lad like you,” and Lesina’s eyes rested tenderly on the boy.
“Oh, but he is not my grandfather! He has but taken care of me. My own grandfather was Rasga, who died two years ago. We came here together, but he was ill and had to go away. He left me in the care of Juriga, but I call him Grandfather just the same.
“So you are an orphan? Well, why not come with me for a while? Here comes Liska. He can tell Juriga that I’ve taken you with me for a little holiday.”
Palko’s eyes shone at such an offer. To go to the city, with its great shops and other wonderful sights that he had heard about. But suddenly, shaking his head, he said: “What would the Lord Jesus say if I left my grandfather that way? Who would bring the water, cook the soup, and sweep the hut? No, Uncle Lesina, let us leave it to the will of God. Only come back quickly, for we shall miss you very, very much.”
And as they parted, Lesina murmured to himself, “How I, too, shall miss the lad.”