I AM going to tell you of the death of a dear little Sunday-school girl, which took place a short time ago; and yet it is not so much of her death that I want to speak as of her life, for had she not loved the Lord Jesus, and been a follower of Him while she lived, there would have been nothing happy to say about her death.
Her name was Eliza, and she was the eldest in a family of three girls. Several years ago, their mother had a bad fall, and was so injured that she became lame, and entirely lost the use of her left hand, Little Eliza was a quick, active child, very loving and obedient to her mother, and it was really delightful to see how useful she was, always busy and industrious. She was merry and simple, although so thoughtful; and white she loved to play with her little sisters, she also took pleasure in caring for her mother, and showing in many ways that she would do all in her power to help her, When the mother was going out it was Eliza who always put on her bonnet and tied the strings for her, and as Mrs. D. could only use one hand, there were many things she could not do without Eliza’s assistance. Thus the handy child was quite her mother’s friend, and a little sunbeam in the house. It was not until after she went to the Sunday school, at seven years of age, that she learned the deep, true lessons that made a real change in her. Her mother’s own words to me, a few days ago, were, “She was always a dear, obedient child, a true comfort to me, but very different after she had been a little time at the Sunday school. What her teaches taught her there was a real blessing to her; she was always thinking and talking about Jesus, and I am sure she really loved Him.”
This did not make Eliza less kind at home; on the contrary, it made her even more dutiful, for she seemed to live in the conscious presence of her Lord and Saviour, and it became her delight not only to please her afflicted mother, but to do everything to please the Lord.
Eliza’s father was a sailor, and was often away from home for many weeks at a time; his earnings were but small, so that this family had to be very careful about the little money they had to spend. One day the mother said to Eliza, “Your best frock is getting very shabby, dear—almost worn out; it will soon be too shabby to wear at the Sunday school, and I really cannot buy you another, However, we must trust to the Lord to send you one; Jesus can supply you if it is His will.”
Not many days after, a friend, who had known nothing of the conversation just narrated, called to say that a dress would be made for Eliza at a “working party,” and that she had come to ask for the size and length required, and, at the end of the following week, a nice warm frock was sent home for the child. As the parcel was opened Eliza looked at her mother with a beaming face, and said, “We know who has sent this—it was Jesus Himself; He knew that I wanted it.” And this was most sweetly true, for the need of a dress had not been spoken of to anyone, and it was the Lord who had thus cared for the child. How comforting it is to see that not only our souls but our bodies also are precious to the Lord. He clothes the grass of the field, and gives the ravens their food, and He supplies everything that is right and needful to those who trust in Him. “He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?”
Last summer there was open-air preaching every Sunday evening, near the harbor, in the town where Eliza lived. The child’s teacher often used to go there and stand to listen, and little Eliza went too. And now I must tell you that this dear child, who had learned to love the Lord Jesus, was anxious that others also should love Him, and wished to do what she could in her own little way. Therefore she asked to be allowed to have books and tracts to give away, that she might offer them to strangers whom she met in the streets and roads. She had seen her teacher do this; and when Eliza made her request, her teacher feared that she might want to do it merely because of her example, and not from a better motive; so she questioned her closely on the point.
“Why do you want to give away tracts and books, Eliza?” “For people to read them,” was the simple answer. “Why, what good will it do if they read them?” “Because if they read them, and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, they will be saved.”
Early in the present year Eliza went to a funeral, which left a strong impression on her mind. It was that of a dear young Christian girl, twenty years of age. When Eliza went home, she said to her mother, “I do not think I shall be here very long. I think I shall soon die and go and be with Jesus; and, mother, I should like to be buried in that cemetery where Miss E. was buried this afternoon.” This remark was made several times, and the mother felt it deeply, although, as her little Eliza was a strong, healthy child, she did not attach much importance to the words.
On Tuesday, the 3rd of February, Eliza appeared to have a cold, but was able to walk more than two miles, to visit her grandmother, with whom she stayed for a little while, and then walked home; but at night she was restless, and could not sleep. The next day, when she was going to get up, and busy herself about the house as usual, she seemed so poorly that the mother said, “You must stay in bed,” and of course Eliza obeyed, although she felt sorry not to be able to help her mother. During the day she became worse. The father was at home, for, having met with an accident, he had been unable to rejoin his ship. It was with difficulty that he could walk, but he fetched the doctor, who told them that dear little Eliza would not recover.
This was sad news indeed for the parents, but still they hoped that the remedies applied might do their little girl good. Eliza was very still and quiet all the Wednesday night, as speaking seemed to hurt her very much, but on Thursday morning she said, “Mother, please send for Mrs. T. (a friend who lived near): she will come and speak to me about Jesus.” After that, Eliza was very quiet again, her mother sitting by the bedside, watching her. Then the dear little one said, “I do want to go and be with Jesus—but what will you do with your poor hand?” The mother answered, “Never mind, dear, Jesus will help me.” The child then said, “All right, mamma, then I can go.”
These were the last words she uttered. When Mrs. T. got there, a few minutes later, Eliza could not speak, and seemed unable to hear; but in a short time, the dear child looked at her as if she knew her, and Mrs. T. then spoke a little “about Jesus,” and the blessed prospect before Eliza of being soon “with Him.” After looking most earnestly at Mrs. T., and at her mother, dear little Eliza closed her eyes, and soon she ceased to breathe, and we knew that she was gone! “Absent from the body, present with the Lord.”
Her short life of eight years was over, her “day’s work” done, and she had gone to rest as peacefully as a child falls asleep on its mother’s bosom. “The Lord did not give her to us, He only lent her,” said the weeping mother, as her tears fell fast; but even in that moment of deepest sorrow, it was blessed to see how He comforts the mourning heart; for He gave the mother faith and confidence in Him, so that she could say, “It is far better for the child to go and be with the Lord.” And sweet it was that the little one could so tenderly leave her beloved mother in the Lord’s care, for when those words, “Jesus will help me,” were spoken, the child seemed to feel that her mission here was ended, and that she was then free to go at once to Him whom she loved, to Him who “first loved her.”
Is she missed in her home? Yes, indeed, every day and every hour, and the mother recalls the sweet words that of late Eliza had so often spoken in any time of trouble or anxiety: “Jesus will take care of us, mother, He will help us; He never, forgets us.” With such comforting assurances Eliza always cheered her mother’s heart, and even now their echo is as music in her ears; for the Lord Jesus is ever the same, He will sustain and strengthen all those who trust in Him, and He who in wisdom and love has taken the precious child to Himself, will not forget the sorrowing family.
Dear little readers, how are you spending your lives? You may be in this world only a few days longer, or you may live here for many years—God alone knows. Do you know Christ as your Saviour? and, if so, are you striving daily to please Him? Are you caring in your little way for the souls of others, and are you shining brightly in your home? Are you helping and comforting those around you?
May this true story about Eliza have a two-fold effect—one to encourage Sunday-school teachers, the other to teach the boys and girls who read about her to be unselfish and so to live in the presence of the Lord Jesus, that they may seek to please Him daily in whatever they do. H. L. T.