“It happened in the old Pacific Zinc Mine, Missouri Pacific Depot, at Carthage, Missouri. I was in the habit of going over to the mine and sometimes would go down underground to see how things were progressing. (My father was one of the owners at that time.)
“I went down one day about noon, and the men were preparing a blast which was to be set off just before the lunch hour, so as to give the smoke time to clear away before they resumed their work after dinner. I was lowered in the bucket and reached the 200-foot level. I started down the drift, which was high enough to let me walk with ease, and passed the point where the drift diverts in two sections.
“I was examining the walls for shines, as the little patches of ore are called, when I was startled by a warning cry from the miners. I started to run to the other drift and had just reached it when a heavy blast went off. It shook the ground and filled the whole mine with smoke and the odor of powder.
“Stunned by the explosion, I groped around trying to find the shaft. I finally reached a place where a ray of light could be seen in the distance. It was the hole that connected the main shaft with the level and air shaft beyond.
“The hole was just large enough to permit a man to crawl through, and this was what I tried to do. I made a good beginning, but when my head protruded in the drift beyond, I realized that I was stuck. In roaming about the main level I had gathered a number of specimens of ore and had put them in my pockets, and this had caused the trouble.
“I could not move forward or backward—I was really stuck. I called for help and struggled for what seemed a long time. Then I fell asleep from exhaustion. I was awakened by a roaring sound, and realized it was a train passing over the drift nearly 200 feet above.
“A new danger came into my mind. What if they should turn loose another blast? Wedged in that ventilation hole as I was, the concussion of an explosion might well be fatal. I shuddered to think of it, and made a desperate effort to release myself. I could not. I shouted for help with all my might; at last someone heard me. It was not long before I was on top of the earth again, and that was my last time in a zinc mine!”
Most of us don’t have pockets full of zinc ore, but we do have our pockets figuratively filled with possessions—with hopes and plans—with duties. Little things, perhaps, harmless in themselves, but they must not be allowed to keep us from obeying the words of the Lord Jesus: Seek ye first the kingdom of God.
Nothing—nothing else comes first.
If those samples of zinc ore could have been miraculously changed to pockets full of diamonds, would the man in the tunnel have said, “Forget about being saved! I’ll stay here with my diamonds”?
Not likely! And wouldn’t he have been a fool if he did? He would have given every stone to save his life; how much more important is the saving of an immortal soul!