IN one of the country towns in the west of Scotland, a few years ago, a Christian mother lay dying. It was one of those hot days in July which makes even well people feel languid; how much more one with a weight of trouble and disease! The home was a very lowly one, and there were few comforts around, but kind neighbors went softly out and in doing what they could to alleviate her sufferings. Her six little ones—five girls and a boy―played about the room, unconscious of the great loss so soon to fall upon them. Life’s battle had gone hard with this poor one, for she was the wife of a drunkard, and what anguish and heart-burnings had been hers! Indeed, it was in trying to lift her husband from the floor, where he had fallen in one of his drunken fits, that she had hurt herself, and brought on this last illness, with all its terrible suffering.
But soon it would be all over―the doctor had said it was unlikely she would live the day out; and then sorrow and anguish would be her portion no more.
Each time the door opened, the dying one turned an eager expectant look. She had expressed a desire to see the relative who had been the means of leading her to the Saviour some two years before, and now she had a last message to give him. He lived at a considerable distance, but a telegram had been sent to him to come at once.
The hours went slowly past, while the disease marched rapidly on; and when at last he came, her eyes had become glazed in death, and those around thought that she was unconscious. Taking her hand in both of his, as he bent over her he called her name, and asked if Jesus was precious. A glad look lit up her face for a moment as she whispered “Precious”; then making a great effort, she said slowly and with difficulty, “Tell―my―bairns―about―their―mother’s―Saviour.” These were almost her last words, and very shortly afterward she fell asleep, to wake when the Lord comes for His own.
A few weeks after, the wretched husband and father committed suicide, the home was broken up, and the children were scattered, but the dying mother’s request had entered into the Lord’s ear, and His eye was over each of them. The two eldest went to service, other two were received into Christian homes by friends, and the two youngest were taken in charge by the parish authorities, and boarded out into private houses; but one by one, in different ways and by various means, the Lord brought them to know Himself.
The case of Johnny, the only boy, is of particular interest. He was the second youngest, and one of those who were boarded out by the parish; but he grew up so wild and wayward, that again and again he had to change his home, those who had the care of him being always glad to get quit of him. At last, when about sixteen years old, disease laid its hand upon him, and he was admitted into one of the wards of the Glasgow Western Infirmary. There, from the lips of strangers, he heard of the Saviour―his mother’s Saviour. The Lord opened his eyes to see his need, and gladly he accepted the Lord Jesus as his Saviour, and thus another of that Christian mother’s bairns was safely housed.
After some months Johnny was sent out of the Infirmary as incurable, and his eldest sister being now very happily married, received him home to die. Johnny had just one unsatisfied desire, and it was this, that the Lord would grant him strength to visit the different families with whom he had lived in his native town, where he had been such a bad boy, that he might tell of God’s saving grace and mercy to him, and what a precious Saviour he had found in Him. The Lord graciously granted his request―several of those he visited were moved to tears; and we doubt not but that the feeble words spoken that day by that poor dying lad sank deeper into their hearts than many a preaching had done.
Then Johnny came back to his sister’s, was never able to cross the threshold again, and after several weeks of great suffering, during which his joy and peace was unbroken, he sweetly fell asleep in Jesus, and mother and son are now with the Lord.
Christian worker, this has been specially written for you. Those dear ones who led Johnny to the Saviour in the Infirmary knew nothing of his Christian mother, or of her dying request to “Tell my bairns about their mother’s Saviour”; but what a privilege was theirs, to be used of God to do so; and such may also be your privilege, to lead to the Saviour some weary, wayward, wandering one who has been cradled amid a mother’s tears and prayers.
“Go, labor on, spend and be spent,
Thy joy to do the Master’s will.”
He has said, “Be not weary in well-doing, for in due season ye shall reap if ye faint not,” and in the sweet by-and-by sowers and reapers shall rejoice together. Y. Z.