IN A LITTLE red cottage not far from the ocean shore lived a widowed mother and her two little boys. Daniel, the older of the two, was a little invalid and had never known what it was to run and play games like most boys and girls. But a God-wrought patience rested upon his pretty little face, and when those large gentle eyes would gaze into your own there was a look of love in them. Charlie, two years younger, was a picture of health, with a rosy round ball of a face and laughing eyes.
Times had been hard for the little family since father died, but Mrs. Mark’s faith was in God, who is the comfort and stay of all who trust Him, especially the fatherless and widows. Mother had taught little Daniel the scriptures from his infancy, and had led him to the feet of the Saviour; she had heard him, when he thought he was alone, speaking to the Lord Jesus.
One day he called her to his bedside and exclaimed, “Mother, I’ve found Him.”
She knew by the look of rapture that over spread his face that he meant Jesus.
“Found Jesus, Daniel? Have you trusted in Him?”
“Yes, Mother, I know I have Him, and He has found me. Oh how good He is; and I am so happy. Everything looks so bright, Mother — the trees, the roses, the grass all looks so beautiful now — everything looks so happy! Oh, I’m so glad Jesus saved me!”
On sunny days mother would wheel Daniel out into the pretty garden, while Charlie entertained his sick brother with his gambols.
One warm glowing noon a car stopped in front of the cottage, and a little girl of about eight years jumped out and came running up the gravel walk. It was evident that she belonged to a wealthy family, but at the same time her manners were winning, and her face very gentle and pretty.
“May I have a drink of water?” she asked.
“Would you like a drink of milk instead?” asked Mrs. Marks.
“Oh, yes,” returned Lily eagerly and thankfully; “and may I stay and drink it here, for poor Daddy is so very sick and tired; he wants to rest in the car under the big tree.”
The little girl drank the milk and then feeling quite at home, she untied and threw off her hat. “You’re sick too, aren’t you?” she asked as she drew closer to Daniel’s side. A sweet smile was his reply.
“I’ve seen you often as we drove past,” she continued, “and Daddy says when you look out the window you look like a picture in a frame. I should think your mother or somebody would drive you to the beach; it’s so nice there. Don’t you get tired sitting here?”
“Not with mother,” replied Danny with a smile: “and if I could go, Mother doesn’t own a car.”
“Doesn’t she? Oh we own lots of things — we’ve got a big house, sofas and pianos — everything! But Daddy said this morning he would rather be a poor man and live in a little cottage like yours, if he could only be well.”
“Does he love Jesus?” asked Danny.
“What? Love who? Jesus! Do you mean our Saviour? Oh, I don’t know; I ‘spect he does; but he never says anything about Him. Do you love Jesus?”
“Oh yes, I do; for Jesus loves me!” answered Danny. “I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t; for as much as mother loves me, she can’t keep awake with me; and Jesus is by my bed watching.”
“Jesus watching?”
“Oh yes!” and the large soft eyes glowed with an inner light — “Jesus comes, I know; for even though it’s dark, I see Jesus, and something so sweet comes into my heart! And so, when I hold my hands out and whisper, ‘Jesus,’ His love covers me all over. Oh yes, Jesus comes — I know He does!”
The little girl stood still; her lips working as if to seize upon a thought and form it into something that might solve the great mystery of this language.
Presently she said, “Oh, I wish my daddy could see Him at his bedside! But then he keeps a light all night; perhaps Jesus comes only in the dark. I hear my father groan sometimes when I wake up. He says it makes him impatient, to lie hour by hour suffering. I wish he could see Jesus, but” — then her eyes dropped as she said, “He couldn’t be with you and him at the same time, you know.”
“Oh yes! He can be everywhere. He goes to anyone that wants Him. He’ll always come. Tell your daddy I only have to say ‘Jesus’ in my heart, and He is sure to come and make me forget my pain.”
“I’ll go and tell him now,” said the little girl throwing on her hat.
Out under the great elm tree Mr. Irving was resting comfortably, and his wife, Lily’s mother, bent over him her hand upon his brow.
“Oh Daddy,” cried the little girl as she came near, “the little sick boy in there says if you’ll only say `Jesus’ in your heart, He’ll be sure to come and make you forget your pain.”
A cold look filled the sick man’s eyes, and a strange expression gathered over the mother’s face.
“Daddy, he looked so happy!” the little girl went on, “and he’s a great deal thinner than you are — and so pale! But he says that though he’s always been sick, he doesn’t mind it much because in the night he sees Jesus by his bedside, and He fills his heart full of love so that he doesn’t think of his pain. Now, Daddy, you say ‘Jesus', and perhaps He’ll come to you, too.”
There was a long silence and then the father spoke. “Stand out of the sun, Lily. I believe we had better go now. Come, help me into the car,” and he held out his hand.
“But oh Daddy, just say ‘Jesus,’ " repeated Lily.
“Well — wait awhile, dear — perhaps I will — I must think about it first. Do you think the little boy would like you to bring him something pretty to play with?”
“Maybe so,” said Lily, “but he can’t play much; he can’t even walk — only sit all his life.”
The car rolled slowly along and stopped at last before a beautiful mansion with marble steps.
ML-06/06/1971