I WAS sitting in my room, in a certain town, when a carriage rolled up. The coachman came and inquired if Richard Weaver was lodging there. I came down, and the man said to me, “My master is waiting in the carriage, and wants to speak to you.” I went out to him. He said, “I have come on a visit to you, and I want to make a request.” I inquired, “What’s that?”
He replied, “I have a dear daughter, and nothing would satisfy her but seeing you, and getting you to come and pray with her, before she died.” He covered his face with his hands, and said, “Lord, help me to bear this.”
I went into his carriage; and when I got to his house, I shall never forget the scene. There was a little boy about twelve years of age, sitting on a chair. A nurse was watching the dying girl. The doctor was just going out of the room, and as I entered in, the young girl put out her nice thin hand, a white ladylike hand, and said, “Oh, dear Mr. Weaver, I shall be a star in your crown when you get to heaven.” I had never seen her before, that I know of.
She said, “Bless the Lord, I am going to be with Jesus. Will you sing to me?” I said, “What shall I sing?” and she answered,”
“Come, sing to me of heaven,
When I’m about to die;
Sing songs of holy ecstasy,
To waft my soul on high,
There’ll be no more sorrow there.
In heaven above, where all is love,
There’ll be no more sorrow there.”
I sang it, and looking at her, saw a tear stealing from her eyes. I said, what are you weeping for?” She said, “I am wondering whether I shall ever see papa and mamma. I wish you would kneel down and pray for them, that they may meet me in heaven.” I said, “I will.” I knelt down, the poor papa knelt by me, and I could hear him sob, “Lord, have mercy on me! Lord, have mercy upon me.” After we had done praying, the poor girl held up her hands, and with her eyes raised towards the ceiling said, “O Lord! I wonder whether I shall see papa and mamma in heaven. Lord, bless my papa; Lord, save my mamma.” I got up from my knees, and she said to her mamma; “I should like to see you in heaven.” “I wonder whether I shall?” The weeping mother dropped her head upon the bosom of her, daughter, and she said “By the help of a dying Jesus, I will meet thee my child.” And then she looked at her father and said, “Oh, dear papa, do tell me — my feet are so cold―shall I see you in heaven?” He turned round to me, and said, “Oh, what must I do to be saved?” I said, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ. But answer your child, she wants to see you in heaven.” And he said, “By the help of God, I will meet you there.” Then she looked at her little brother, and said, “Won’t you come?” And he said, “Oh, sister! oh sister! I will―I know Jesus pardons all my sins, and I will meet you in heaven.” Then she said, “Thank God.” We sang sweet hymns with her, and stopped with her for an hour, an just as she was passing out of time into eternity she began to beckon. I said, “What are you beckoning for?” She said, “I am beckoning to Jesus: Come Jesus! Come, Jesus! come Jesus!”