IT WAS a hot July afternoon and Grandpa Brown was sitting on the porch of the old farm home. His working days were over but he loved to look out over the meadows and watch the men working in the harvest field, and the cattle grazing on the hillside.
Then he caught sight of a car coming down the lane in a whirl of dust and soon a young fellow stepped out and greeted him.
“Hi there, old-timer,” he called. “I’m Norman Grant.” and sitting down on the top step of the porch he took off his hat and began mopping his brow. Charlie Brown could see that he looked none too prosperous with his threadbare suit and battered brief case.
“Go in and ask Aunt Martha to make some lemonade, Harry,” said Grandpa to his young grandson, and soon they were chatting over the cooling drink.
Then their guest remembered why he had come and opening his brief case he began a well-memorized sales talk. The first few words startled Grandpa.
“Mr. Brown, it behooves a man to look to the future and to face the inevitable. As hard as it may seem to us, life is but a flickering light that soon fades into eternity.”
“Must be an insurance salesman,” thought Charlie; “or maybe he sells tombstones.”
The sales talk went on: “It is well for all mankind to take steps of precaution against that day. The years creep up on us with incredible speed; as we move on toward that culmination of life’s journey, we may gain a great deal of satisfaction from adequate preparation. My firm takes great pains in helping mankind to attain to this end.”
Charlie thought: “Selling grave plots; that’s what he’s doing!”
The sales talk went on. “During the history of mankind there has been no greater source of security than the product I’m about to show you.” Then Norman Grant put his hands into his brief case and withdrew something. Charlie was astonished for in the salesman’s hand was a Bible.
Still the sales talk pressed on. “This Book has been a source of comfort to the sick, the sad, and the dying; and our firm has made every effort to do justice to the divine contents.”
Old Charlie wondered into what category he fell — sick, sad, or dying? Just at that moment he didn’t feel as if he were in any one of the three.
“Note the binding,” the young man went on. “Sewed with the finest linen... the leather cover was imported... deep rich gold and red page edges... maps printed in nine different colors.... Mr. Brown, you might travel the world over and never find a Bible like this. What a splendid addition to your home! We have it in various covers to match any living room!
The sales talk was over. Charlie leaned over and took the Bible from the salesman’s hands. He looked at it long and silently; it was all the salesman said.
“Mr. Grant,” he said, “I know the Author of this Book.”
“Oh no, sir, that cannot be!” exclaimed the young fellow. “Those who wrote it have been dead many years. They belonged to ages past.”
Charlie went on as if he hadn’t heard. “I met the Author of this Book first at my mother’s knee. Then later in life He spoke to me from these pages many, many times. When I was sixteen He said to me: Tor God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.’ Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.’
“Mr. Grant, I heard His words and heeded them. Later in life when as a young man I was beset by the usual temptations of youth, He said, ‘Whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely,... Think on these things.’ Then too when great sorrow came into our family He spoke, saying, ‘Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee.’ I did, Mr. Grant, and He did.
“Again when we had a crop faire for two years, He spoke once again, ‘My God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory.’ In all our joys and sorrows He has had a special word of counsel or encouragement from the pages of this blessed Book.
“And now, as I approach the suet years of life, He speaks again telling me that even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I need fear no evil. My Saviour went through the real death of Calvary’s cross long ago and I shall only need to go through the shadow.”
There was quiet on the porch for a while. Then the silence was broken by Aunt Martha’s voice, “Charlie, dinner’s ready!”
The young man prepared to leave but Grandpa said, “Won’t you stay for dinner, and all night for that matter?” And the salesman accepted.
After dinner they returned to the porch and taking the Bible again Grandpa said to his guest, “Wouldn’t you like to know the Author of this Book?”
The answer was quick and firm: “Yes, I surely would.”
The next morning, as the young man prepared to leave, he said to Mr. Brown, “I came to sell you a Bible, but you have sold the divine contents of it to me, and I shall ever be grateful.”
“That’s fine,” said Charlie, “but I need some Bibles any way. There are birthdays coming around, so put me down for six.”
About ten days later a package arrived and on opening it Grandpa found seven Bibles. On the flyleaf of one was written: “To Charles Brown... in deep appreciation of his having introduced me to the Author of this Book, which I tried to sell, but which he sold to me... Norman Grant.
ML-09/01/1974