In a village which lay at the outskirts of a large Canadian city, an old Christian woman was nearing the end. I was asked to visit her, and gladly consented to make the call. When I reached the house, I inquired of a middle-aged woman in the garden if Mrs. Morris lived there.
"Yes, my mother is here, but she is very ill," was the reply.
I asked, "May I go in to see her?" At the answering nod, I followed the daughter into a little bedroom where the sick woman lay. Her face was toward the wall; and she herself was either sleeping, or else sweetly anticipating the bright future before her.
Her daughter touched her gently on the shoulder. "Mother," she said, "a gentleman is here and wants to see you." Then she took her place at the foot of the bed.
"I do not know you, sir," said the old woman, peering intently into my face.
"No," said I; "but I heard you were a Christian, and thought perhaps you would like me to read or speak to you about the Savior, and so I came.”
She made me welcome, and we enjoyed together some happy thoughts of a dying Savior's love, and of His present all-sustaining grace. I found that she had, long ago, been converted to God; and not a touch of fear darkened her soul at the thought of her being soon with the Lord.
After about half an hour's conversation, I said, "Would you like me to pray beside you? Have you any special request that I may lay before the Lord?”
"Oh, thank you," said she. "Yes! There is one thing," she abruptly said, "a heavy burden on my heart. I have four children, all grown; but only one of them is converted. My daughter there, at the foot of my bed is one of the three still out of Christ. Now," said the dear old heavy-hearted mother, "will you pray God to save my unsaved children?”
I turned to the daughter, and said, "Is it true that you are unsaved?”
"Yes, sir.”
"Not ready for death?”
"No, sir.”
"Would you go to be with Jesus and to meet your dear mother, if you died as you are?”
There was a silence like death, and then the tears came. "Oh, I would not," came the sad answer.
"Through grace your mother is going to heaven; and you, my poor woman, are at present on your way to hell! You know you will never see her again if you continue to reject Christ.”
With all earnestness I explained to the weeping daughter the way of salvation, through faith in the death and resurrection of Christ. With her heart so touched, I believed that this might be the moment of her blessing.
I said, "Let me give you two texts: first, 'I will give to him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.' And second, 'Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.'
"In the first, Jesus says, 'I will give'; in the second, 'Whosoever will, let him take.' See how the two truths dovetail? 'I will give'; 'Let him take! "Come," said I, "the Lord Jesus 'gives,' but it is up to you to 'take.' The giving is complete. Now will you take?”
A silence, then in a whisper, "I will take.”
"A little louder, please.”
"I will take," said she.
"Louder still, please.”
"I WILL TAKE," clear and distinct, fell from her lips, to the unbounded joy of her dying mother.
What a moment of gladness and praise! The mother just dying; the daughter just beginning to live. Then a moment of prayer and farewell.
Some while later, another Christian corroborated the good news to me. The daughter had, through grace, taken the water of life. Dear, reader, have you?