It is ten days since the mail was last received, and the good ship Trinidad is due again. But the day is dark and stormy, and hour after hour passes, and still no signal to give word that the expected ship is in sight; night falls, and still she has not arrived, and those who are eagerly waiting for tidings from across the sea, must wait another day, while thinking of the ship that is to bring those tidings, as out in the deep, riding the storm and seeking to keep off the dangerous rocks that surround the island.
Morning dawns, and anxious eyes look forth to see what the day is likely to be; the sun is struggling out from between the clouds, and for a time at least, the rain is stayed. Soon people from all directions are hurrying along towards the docks, and a stranger may safely conclude that the boat is not far off. About eight o’clock she is seen slowly steaming up the harbor. Soon she is safely anchored, and it is not long until she is drawn up along the side of the wharf; then begins the busy scene of unloading, for before even the passengers can get off, the mail bags must be started towards their destination. Very soon a string of men are seen hurrying along, one after another, each with a great, heavy bag of mail on his shoulders, which they deposit in wagons nearby that are waiting to receive them. Watch the men! Still they come, until you would begin to think there is no end to the mail; and watch the wagons as bag after bag is thrown upon them, the pile rising up until they will hold no more; one wagon is full; and now another, and a third has to bear its portion, but there is not enough to fill it up so high. Ah! now we will soon have word from absent loved ones; but wait; all those bags must be emptied of their contents—letters, papers and parcels—before we can get the word we are longing for, and so hours yet must pass.
Five, six, seven hours have passed, and now, at last, the office window is raised and the contents of the mail bags are beginning to be handed forth. But, look! here is a line of people formed, old and young, colored and white, men, women and little children, all with eager, expectant faces. The line begins at the office window and stretches back, back to the office door, and out on the long, covered porch in front; as each one at the office window gets his mail and passes out of the line, the next one steps forward, and the whole line moves forward, pressing closer and closer to those in front as the window is neared; but as fast, or faster than the line wears away at one end, it fills up at the other with new-comers, lengthening, and still lengthening, until one would think the clerks in the office would grow very tired, hastening, as they do, to find what belongs to each waiting one. But take a look at the people as they stand in line; expectation is written on every face—joyous expectation on most of the faces; and as each one’s turn comes, and letter after letter, and paper after paper is handed out, how the eyes brighten, and how the happy receiver hastens away with his treasure! But some get only one letter, and some do not get any; then comes the disappointed look. All seem to have sixpence or more ready, for the far-away friends are not always as thoughtful as they should be, and put more in their letters than five cents will carry, and then the friend receiving has to pay double postage; so often the postman calls out “five-pence”—this would be tea cents with us—and the money is always ready, and usually laid down cheerfully, for the people seem so glad to get their letters they are willing to pay a good deal for them; sometimes, however, it seems very hard, and then you will see the face grow quite long. But we will not linger longer in the post-office.
Let me tell you what this scene has brought to my mind; that is, the happy contrast with this, that there will be for those who are eagerly and with loving hearts waiting for Jesus, when He comes.
There will be no forming in line then, and weary waiting for one and another and another to get in; no, all will go together, and in a moment, when all is ready, to meet the Lord in the air. And there will be no disappointment for any who are the Lord’s, for each one will receive a bright and happy welcome home. There will be nothing to pay for the wonderful treasures that are awaiting each one who enters that happy place, for God has made all these joys ready for his loved ones; and Jesus is taking care to fit His own dear ones for full enjoyment of that blessed scene when they shall enter upon it. Instead of disappointment on the part of any, there will be fullness of joy on the part of all.
Now, dear children, how many of you are in that happy company who are waiting for Jesus to come?
How many of you at night are found listening for the “shout?” How many of you through the day are thinking Jesus may come before the day is over?
You know Jesus says, “Behold, I come quickly.” He says, too,
May you watch and wait more eagerly for His coming, than those in the Bermuda post-office watched and waited for their mail. R.
ML 03/18/1900