“Daddy, you won’t forget my dolly, will you?” called out little Eileen.
“Indeed I won’t, my little sweetheart,” replied Mr. Hunt, taking his little daughter up in his arms and giving her a farewell hug and kiss. Soon he was waving good-bye as he disappeared around the bend in the road.
Eileen was very excited that day. She had never dressed a real doll of her own, only rag dollies which her mother had made for her. Every day she had asked her daddy when was he going to market, and she hardly slept the night previous to this eventful day.
Mr. Hunt was a cattle dealer, and after attending the market, he went shopping. He bought a beautiful doll with a wax face and yellow curls, and eyes that opened and shut, smiling to himself as he thought of his little girl’s delight.
It had been a long day, and now it was getting late. It might have been better to stay in town overnight and return the next day, but Mr. Hunt thought of how eagerly little Eileen would be waiting for his return with her doll; so he determined to go home that night.
Away from the city lights, on the way home, it was so dark that he could scarcely see the road. Then it began to rain and the wind blew the rain into his face. It blew up into a terrible storm. Progress was slow, but he trudged on.
Suddenly he stopped. “I am sure there was a cry,” he said to himself.
He went on a little farther. Then he heard the cry again, and it sounded so weird in that lonely spot.
“Who is it? Who is there?” shouted Mr. Hunt.
The voice seemed like the voice of a child, but Mr. Hunt was doubtful. He had quite a sum of money with him, for many would know of his trip to the market, and it might be a trap to way-lay and rob him.
For a moment he hesitated. At first he was inclined to press on home as quickly as possible, but how could a child be out on such a night? Then he heard the cry again, and said aloud, “If any man’s child is out here on a night like this, Anthony Hunt is not the man to leave it here to die.”
He left the road and made his way across the open field.
At last in a little hollow under some bushes he found a little dripping thing that sobbed, and he took it in his arms. Wrapping his cloak about her, he started home again.
“Don’t cry, little one,” he said; “I’ll take you safe home to your mommy.”
Soon the child cried herself to sleep.
The lights of his cottage beamed a welcome to him through the wet night, and how glad he was to see them.
“My wife has it all lit up for me,” he said. “It’s to cheer me up after such a bad trip.”
As soon as the cottage door was opened he saw that something was wrong. The room was filled with neighbors, and Mrs. Hunt stood among them crying.
“Oh, don’t tell him,” she cried. “It will kill him.”
“What is it?” he asked, turning pale.
“What is that under your coat?” inquired one, before the rest could speak.
“A poor lost child I found out in the field!”
The light fell on the sleeping child. It was little Eileen. She had wandered out to meet her daddy and her dolly.
“Oh, if I had gone on and paid no attention to that cry for help, how should I feel now?” said Mr. Hunt to his wife afterward.
“Thank God, you didn’t,” she replied, as she hugged her precious little girl to her heart, and the tears rolled down her face.
Is God less pitiful than man? No indeed, a thousand times more so. He listens to the cries of lost sinners and He sent His blessed Son down to this world to save. “The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.” Luke 19:1010For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost. (Luke 19:10).
But none of the ransomed ever knew,
How deep were the waters crossed,
Or how dark was the night that the Lord passed through,
Ere he found His sheep that was lost.
ML-10/01/1978