It was a cold spring day, the sea was rough and the wind boisterous. As we were resting awhile beside a shelter on the beach, we noticed an old sailor close by. We spoke to him about the weather and he sat and talked with us about old times.
“Forty years have I been here on this beach,” he said, “but I remember those days well. Those were very different times; the fishermen and sailors were a rough set then and, although there was a ‘Bethel’ or chapel there, the ‘Rag’ we called it, there were few places where us searing men could be spoken to, or could hear anything about Jesus.”
“Do you know Jesus?” we asked.
“Yes, thank God,” replied the old sailor, “I do.”
“Do you know Him as your Saviour?”
“Oh yes,” he answered. “I know I am saved. I knew about Him, in a way, ever since I was a child. But I grew up rather wild and always went out with my boat on Sundays, as I’m sorry to say my son does now. The Lord had to bring me right down low. I had taken over a fish shop but times became bad and then a long illness overtook me. I got downright hard up, though I didn’t like to tell anybody till at last it came about that our very last cent was spent. Just then a lady heard how sick I was and called to see me—a preacher’s wife she was — and so my wife told her how I couldn’t get the proper food I needed, and her husband brought me a little help, bless him!”
Waving his hand towards his boats, and pointing to a row of some dozen or more hath houses at a little distance, he added, “All these are mine now, and they all sprang from the help that dear man gave to me.
“That was the turning point in my life in another way too, for the first Sunday I could get out I thought I would go to hear the gospel, and the Lord sent the Word straight to my heart. I do remember the verse now. I went back to my bedside and, kneeling down there, asked God to save me, a poor lost sinner and, praise His name, He forgave me. I do ask the Lord every morning to give me some opportunity during the day to serve Him in my humble little way, whether by giving a few cents to some poor man, or saying a word to some rich man, and He does give me such an opening; it’s just wonderful!” The old sailor’s weather-beaten face told its own story of the joy of such service for the Lord.
“I’m getting old now and I don’t go out with my boats except sometimes with the visitors’ families, for I do love little children. And what do you think,” he added, with a bright smile, “I’m having a new boat built, you know, and I ask the children to guess the name I’m going to give her. Some say one name and some another, and they grow quite curious to know. Well, I say, I’m going to call her ‘Come.’
“‘Oh!’ they cry, ‘what a strange name!’ And then I tell them how Jesus said, ‘Suffer little children to come unto Me,’ and that He wants them to come, and so I talk to them of Jesus and His love.”
As we rose to go, the old man said, Good-bye, we will pray for each then I have unsaved sons, you know, that I do believe they will be brought in yet.”
ML 03/07/1965