SOME years ago I had a private school in the city of M—., and at the beginning of a new term was called upon by a gentleman who told me he wished to send his little daughter to me as a pupil, “but,” he added, “before I send Martha to you, I would like, to tell you that I do not wish her to be instructed in a religious way, as we are Jews, and I do not wish Martha to learn anything contrary to the views which we hold.” I told him it was always my custom to read the Scripture to the pupils and pray with them before commencing the duties of the day, and of course I could not prevent his daughter from listening if she were present. After further consideration he concluded that she was too young to be very seriously impressed with anything she might hear, and having promised to send her on the morrow, he left, fully understanding that Martha would not be personally addressed on the subject of religion, as he expressed it.
Dear little Martha, I think I can see her now as she used to sit at her little desk, her bright brown eyes, shining with intelligence, her black ringlets falling down over her shoulders, making a pretty contrast to the fair haired, blue eyed little ones who sat on either side of her in the class room.
Each morning before commencing the lessons for the day we sang a hymn, and I soon noticed that little Martha’s sweet bird-like tones could be heard above those of the other children, and she had become quite familiar with both words and tunes of all the hymns so dear to the hearts of the little ones. “Jesus loves me this I know” and “I am so glad that Jesus loves me,” being her particular favorites. When speaking to the children after the hymn on some passage of Scripture, John 3:16,16For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. (John 3:16) being a text of which they never seemed to tire, I would watch those bright brown eyes fixed upon me so earnestly, and often some question concerning the love of Christ for sinners would come from the dear child which showed such a searching interest in the truth, quite astonishing in one so young. Some weeks after Martha had come to my school I was confined to my room with a severe cold and my mother went into the class-room to hear the lessons and keep them engaged during the day, and not being familiar with my method of opening school exercises, she began to hear some lesson without the usual hymn and prayer. Martha immediately said, “Mrs. W—. we have not sung our hymn.” “What would you like to sing, you may choose one if you like,” said my mother. The old familiar hymn was at once selected, and soon the refrain “Yes Jesus loves me, the Bible tells me so,” could be heard by the teacher in her sick-room. The hymn being finished Martha said she would pray, and without waiting for an answer she knelt at her desk and her sweet childish voice was raised in prayer to the Lord, asking, as she had often hears me from day to day, that He would help them with their lessons and make them obedient to their teacher, ending with “This we ask for Jesus’ sake, Amen.”
It was very touching indeed to hear this child of Jewish parents calling upon the Lord Jesus whom they would not own, and singing praises to the One whom their nation so cruelly nailed to the cross.
One summer evening about two or three months after Martha joined my school, as I was sitting at the door, I heard a child crying very bitterly from the upstairs of one of the houses half way down the block, just where little Martha lived. Thinking it sounded like her voice and wondering what could be the matter with the little child whom I had learned to love very dearly, I walked past the house, and seeing the servant at the door with a very troubled face, I asked if anything was the matter with Martha.
She told me that the little girl had been praying aloud at her bedside to the Lord Jesus and had been overheard by her father, who was just then beating her with a piece of rope because she would not promise never again to pray in that name or to the One whom he denied. I went back to my home with the tears blinding my eyes and my heart aching for the dear little child who was not afraid to suffer shame for the Lord whom she loved.
Before the mid-summer closing I invited the parents to be present and hear the little ones recite and see them receive the rewards for their year’s work. Amongst those who came was the father of little Martha. The children sang several hymns very sweetly, and Martha’s voice was the clearest and sweetest of all. As she was singing with childish earnestness, “I am so glad that Jesus loves me,” I saw her father’s face darken and noted the impatient gesture he made to stop her, but quite unconsciously the child sang on. That night as I was retiring to rest I heard the same piteous cries issuing from Martha’s home, and learned from the servant the next day that she had been most cruelly punished for disobeying him in singing the hymns and again praying to that Jesus whom she so dearly loved. Martha did not return to school again, her father moved away from the neighborhood in a few months and I have never heard of my dear little pupil since then, but I believe that amongst those blood washed ones who will meet around the Lord and cast their crowns at His feet, I shall see dear little Martha B—for she was one of His little ones.
ML 10/19/1902