IN a crowded, sleeping railway carriage, one night, a I babe was sobbing piteously. “Won’t that child’s mother stop its noise?” cried a rough voice from an adjoining berth, “so that we may get some sleep?” The baby’s sobs ceased for an instant, and a man’s voice sadly responded, “The child’s mother is in her coffin — in the guard’s van — and I have been awake with the little one for three nights, doing my best to comfort her and keep her quiet.”
There was a rush from the other berth, and the rough voice, now broken and tender, said: “I didn’t understand, sir. I’m very sorry. Let me take the baby while you try and get some rest. I wouldn’t have spoken so for the world if I had known!” And, taking the weary little child in his arms, as gently, as its lost mother had ever done, he paced up and down, soothing her until she was sweetly sleeping, and then he placed her in his own berth, and watched over her until morning. Then, restoring her to her father, he said: “I hope you will forgive my unkind words. I wouldn’t have said them had I known.”
This touching little incident has a moral all its own. How often we misjudge people because we do not understand the motives that underlie their actions. If I judge only by externals, I may make mistakes that will bring me sorrow all my life. “I didn’t understand; I am very sorry,” may have to be said by us when death will for evermore prevent our remedying our injustice. “Little children love one another,” was the inspired injunction of the great Apostle of love. “Love is of God,” he also said.