SOME years ago a Polish Jew, who had long desired to better his condition in life, said good-bye to his wife and children, and left his native village for America, promising himself and his family to have them with him as soon as he could provide for them. The voyage was uneventful.
On landing in New York, one of the first to greet him was a missionary, who handed him a New Testament. His Jewish fellow-travelers with muttered curses threw theirs overboard. "I'll look at mine before I destroy it," he thought; but not wishing to be ridiculed by his companions, he secreted it in his trunk, soon forgetting its existence.
Being strong and willing, he soon obtained profitable employment, and in less than three months sent for his wife and children, for whose comfort he had fitted up a neat little home. In the re-united family all went well till the Testament was unpacked, and out of curiosity the father began to peruse it. He became interested, attracted, fascinated. If this is true, the Christians are right. Oh, to know for certain!
Missionaries whom he met tried to make the truth plain to him, but fear of the Jews kept him aloof from Christians. His mind was so troubled that he would rise in the night to read, but was soon discovered by his wife, who was so surprised and shocked that it was impossible to appease her. She burned that Testament and each succeeding one that found its way into the house; but she could not help hearing of the wonderful works of this Jesus whom she so thoroughly hated and despised.
Home was changed to the poor Jew; and, longing for rest of mind and comfort of heart, he wandered into a mission room where a faithful evangelist was preaching Christ as the "Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world." "This must be what all our types have been pointing to," thought he. "Jesus suffered instead of me; God is satisfied; I am so thankful to Him!”
True conversion cannot be hid. His employers heard of it, and discharged him, refusing to pay to a heretic the wages due; his wife heard it, and spurned him in scorn and bitterness. His life was full of trouble, but not his soul—his Savior took care of, that, and gave him patience to work and care for the family who were being taught to despise and hate him. His wife, the daughter of a rabbi, refused to be supported by one she could no longer reverence. After consulting a prominent New York rabbi, she decided to leave him and take her children back to the shelter of her parents' home, where they could be educated in the Jewish faith. Allow them to grow up Christians! Never!
The rabbi would pay all expenses out of respect to her father; so the packing up was quickly done. Now for the express man to take the luggage to the steamer. She dons her street attire, and starts to bring him to her rooms. She gets to the door, but cannot open it; past the threshold she cannot go: her limbs are paralyzed. She is stricken so suddenly that she can only cry out. Her Jewish neighbors run to her assistance; but the water they offer she cannot drink.
“Your husband's sin, that is the cause. Send for an ambulance." Tenderly they lift the terrified sufferer and bear her away from her frightened children. But hospital doctors and nurses alike think it a serious case, and after hours of unsuccessful treatment, pronounce it hopeless, and have her removed to an isolated ward, where her screams cannot annoy other patients, Her hours are numbered, and she is made aware of the fact. She prays to the God of Israel and bitterly reproaches Him, the Almighty, for afflicting her for her husband's sin.
“What if my husband should be right?" suddenly flashed through her mind. "He has borne all my harsh treatment, and everybody is against him; yet he clings to this Jesus who (he says) used to open the eyes of the blind and cure sick folks, even to a poor paralytic. Oh, if He would only cure me! Then I would know He was the true Messiah. I have only a few hours to live. O Jesus, if you are the Messiah, heal my body now, and I will believe upon you.”
The prayer is half-sobbed, half-shrieked, but it reaches the throne of glory. Instantly there is a change; the pain is gone, the crippled limbs straighten, and in contrition she cries out, "Jesus, I believe on You. I'm sorry I hated You so bitterly. Make me see it all plainer." What a change in mind and body! Her husband's Savior hers at last!
“The poor Jew woman is dead," the nurses, exclaim, "for her screams have ceased.”
They go to make sure.
She is not there, but giving a drink of water to another patient.
“What! walking around, when it took four of us to lift her on that cot.”
Doctors are hastily summoned; they find her cured, but by what means? Then the whole story comes out, and doctors and nurses must acknowledge that Jesus, the "Good Physician," takes precedence of all.
In the morning her husband came and took her home, united at last in the truest sense, the prayers of months answered.
These are God's dealings with our Jewish brother and his wife, and are jotted down, hoping they may be used to cheer any who are passing through like trial.