IT WAS a hot, humid summer day, and not the faintest breeze moved the tallest treetops. Even the mill stream was lazy also so that the wheel stood still. Only the drowsy hum of the insects was heard, and nothing seemed moving except a little tiny fellow with roguish eyes and busy hands as he stood before a shrub. He soon made havoc of the leaves and flowers scattering the petals over the garden walk. And then as he toddled onward, he spied something built of bricks over which hung an old bucket, beneath the apple trees.
Soon he was gazing down into the darkness of the old well, its sides overgrown with gray moss. Who can tell the wondering fancies of his childlike mind. Presently picking up a pebble he threw it into the depths and leaning over listened to hear its fall.
Mother had left little Teddy in the care of his sister Mary Lou, a little girl of about seven. Suddenly she missed him and heard his scream. The little fellow had fallen into the well, down to the depths below. She had not seen him disappear, but instinctively she felt what had happened. She flew to the well, but it was all dark below. Sorrow and anguish clouded her childish brow. One minute before she was a little girl, but the next she was a woman.
Gazing down into that watery grave she resolved what she would do in an effort to save her darling little charge.
Without thought of pain or danger, she seized the chain and swung over the side of the well. The handle whirled around rapidly as she and the bucket went down, down, down. There was a splash as she hit the water, but oh what joy and thankfulness filled her little soul as she found the little fellow alive and unhurt by his fall and uninjured by her quick descent.
It so happened that the water in the well was not over their depth, and with what joy and delight she placed the little fellow safely in the bucket. She kissed him over and over again as she sought to quiet his fear, telling him that mother would soon come to rescue them.
Then while standing within that deep dark well her young heart dwelt on many a scripture, for at Sunday School she had learned the precious truth, “Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth.” Eccl. 12:1. Another text that seemed especially precious at that moment was, “Call upon Me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify Me.” Psa. 50:15. Then came another which her faithful memory had stored up, “In my distress I cried unto the Lord.”
The time went by and Mother, busy at her work, suddenly thought. “Where are the children?” She went to the garden gate, and looked around; she called for Mary Lou but heard no sound. The very silence seemed to make her heart swell. The next moment she was running toward the garden well. The bucket was down and a look of keen despair crossed her brow. Could it be that Teddy was down there?
She grasped the handle and began to turn with fear and trembling. Minutes later, she clasped her dear little boy to her bosom, with all the deep down feelings of a mother’s heart.
She began to carry him wet and weak as he was to the cottage when the dear child pointed to the well and said, “Mummy, Mary’s down dere!”
The poor mother saw it all at a glance. Again the bucket was lowered as the chain moved slowly downward. She waited a minute bore turning the handle to wind it up again. Fear and hope yearned in mother’s breast. Then she bent to her task. The bucket was heavier this time. With what glad surprise, she saw, emerging from the darkness bow, little Mary Lou in the bucket. This was no time for scolding the little girl for her failure to take care of her little brother, how thankful she was to have them both back safe and sound. Little Mary Lou knew both forgiveness and the sweetness of an answered prayer.
Before we end this little story, we must point our dear reader to that blessed Saviour who watched over those little children and restored them safely to their mother again. Long before He Himself came into this world and went down into that deep dark pit of death and judgment to rescue poor sinners who had fallen into sin. But the waters of judgment closed over His head in those dark hours of Calvary: He had to die.
But He rose from the dead as the mighty Victor over death and the grave, and He has brought with Him all those who trust in Him as their Saviour, to be the objects of His love forever. In closing we must ask you, dear young friend, are you one of His rescued ones? or are you still in your sins? Can you say, “I waited patiently for the Lord; and He inclined unto me, and heard my cry. He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings. And He hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God.” Psa. 40:1-3.
ML-05/23/1971