IT was a cold, blustery day; such a day as drives the poor and needy, the wretched and starving indoors, if, perchance, it is more comfortable indoors than out.
A boy of eleven years of age was hurrying along the pavement of an obscure street in one of our large cities, leading by the hand his little sister, only eight years old.
Although their clothes showed the pinch of poverty, yet they were neater in appearance than any of the many children they passed, and had that look of intelligence that betokens good home training.
Turning down a side alley, they entered a house that was in a deplorably tumble-down condition, one would think unfit to live in. As they entered they were greeted by a weak, gentle voice:
“Charlie, is it you, my son? Come here, dear.”
Leaving his sister to warm herself at a scant fire, Charlie hastened to the side of the bed on which the mother lay, whence the voice had proceeded.
“What success—no work yet?” she asked as she caught the sight of his face.
“No, mother, none; no one wants a boy. Dot and I have traveled about all over the city, but it’s no use; we must starve or beg.”
“Did you go to see the persons who advertised in yesterday’s paper?” queried his mother.
“Yes, mother, we called on every one; but they all had boys already, and we went from store to store until we were both tired, and coming to church where they was holding a meetin’, we went in to get warmed; and the preacher was sayin’ to the people to throw their bread in the river, or the water, or something like that; and all the people said ‘Amen,’ like as if they was a-goin’ to do so just as soon as they got home, when you and me and Dot haven’t got none but a little bit; and I just shook my fist at him under the seat, ‘cause he might have told them to give their bread to poor people;” and the rebellious tears sprang to his eyes, while his mother drew him to her.
“Hush, my son,” she responded, “you did not understand him—God does not like a rebellious heart;” and she explained to him, as well as she could, the meaning of the text, “Cast thy bread upon the waters.”
Little Dot, his sister, had been an attentive listener, both at the church and to her mother, and in her innocence took them as literal truths.
Timidly approaching her mother’s side, she asked—
“Mother, does it mean that it will come back after awhile a big lot of bread?”
“Yes, my daughter; it means that what you give to the Lord will be given back increased an hundred times.”
Dot said nothing more, but was quiet and thoughtful the whole afternoon.
Towards evening Charlie prepared a cup of tea for his mother—the last they had; and after each had eaten a small slice of bread there remained only one slice in the cupboard, and no money to buy more.
After Charlie had gone out to continue his quest for employment, Dot quietly put on her well-worn cape, took the slice of bread from the cupboard, and stole out of the house—her mother having fallen asleep.
This was Dot’s first venture on the streets alone very far from home, and after the first few squares had been passed she was at a loss where to go to find the water, and accosting a gentleman who was approaching, she said: “Please, sir, is the water near?”
The gentleman stopped, looked at her a moment, and replied—
“Do you mean the river, my dear?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Dot.
“You are quite a distance off; what takes such a little girl to the river on such a cold day, hadn’t you better go home?”
“No, sir; I must throw the bread in the river first, so we will get more;” and she trudged bravely on in the direction the gentleman had indicated.
The latter having taken a fancy to the demure, blue-eyed little lady, and being mystified by her last reply, resolved to follow her and learn her mission to the river.
Dot finally arrived at the river, and making her way with some difficulty on to the wharf, found herself at the edge, the gentleman close behind, hid from view by a woodpile close to her.
Dot pulled the bread from her pocket, and in a scarcely audible voice began:
“Please, God, this is all the bread we’ve got, and we must do without for breakfas’; but if ‘taint too long till the hunderd slices come back, mebby Charlie can get some money to buy some a while. Send it to Dotty Horn in Thomas Alley. Amen;” and she cast the bread into the muddy river.
To say that the gentleman was affected would not describe his emotion. Hastily dashing the tears from his eyes he followed Dot homeward.
She was met by Charlie, who had been hunting her, when nearly home, and was soon clasped in her mother’s arms. In reply to her mother’s inquiries she told where she had been, ending I just thought as we had only one slice of bread I’d go and throw it in the river, and we’d get the hunderd slices afterawhile.”
Her mother, affected to tears, could not find it in her heart to chide her for her simple faith, although she knew the cupboard was empty and no one to provide more for the morrow.
“Don’t cry, mother,” cried Dot; “God will send it sure, ‘cause the preacher said He would.”
Soon after Charlie lighted the lamp and drew a chair up to the bed to read the customary chapter of Scripture before retiring, and had just begun when a knock was heard at the door, and before he could get up to open it, a man entered, placed a large basket on the floor and a letter on the table, and stepping out, returned with a bag of flour, and departed without saying a word, to the astonishment of all. Quickly running to the door Charlie looked for the man, but could find no trace of him; and closing the door, he examined the basket, which was labeled “For Dotty Horn, Her bread from off the water.” Opening it, he found bread, a large chicken, and a large list of groceries. Charlie now espied the letter on the table, and seeing it was addressed to himself, tore it open, and read, “Master Charles Horn is hereby appointed messenger in the store of John Lennox & Co., at a salary of six shillings a week. To begin at once.”
There were fervent thanksgivings in that humble household that night. Their benefactor, the gentleman who had followed Dot, had made inquiries concerning the family from near neighbors, and resolved that such sublime faith as Dot’s should not go unrewarded. Charlie is a partner in the firm now, and his mother is well again, and they both attribute their prosperity to “Dot’s faith.”
ML 08/26/1917