MRS. J— was for years a well-known figure to most in B—. With her well-stocked basket of Bibles, books, and tracts slung over one arm, while the other held, maybe, a roll of the year’s almanacs, she would make her way along the busiest thoroughfares, and into one and another place of business, not only offering her goods, but speaking—very often to master and servant alike —the solemn truths of the gospel.
Her comings and goings in time began to be pretty much looked for on all sides, and in some cases appreciated. Business men found it a pleasant break in the monotony of everyday occurrence to receive a visit from the cheery, sunshiny old woman, and while on the one hand they parried her home thrusts, would rally her about herself, her profession, and the like. In almost every instance, however, it was Mrs. J—, and not her opponents, who got the best of the argent. And just how much good resulted from these little encounters, where God’s Word aptly quoted was the all-powerful weapon wielded by our earnest old sister, only “the Day” will declare.
It was on one such occasion that something of the following nature took place. Two gentlemen stood talking together in the doorway of a store, when Mrs. J— appeared in sight. One, the master of the establishment, began to remark on the old Christian’s peculiarities as he termed them; he being one who had often tried to corner her but in vain, as he then owned.
“I tell you,” said he, “there’s no matching her.”
“Nonsense,” said his friend. “I’ll put a question to her now as she comes up that I bet she won’t answer.”
“You’ll be beaten,” returned the other; “I advise you not to try.”
It was to be put to the proof however, for Mrs. J—came to a halt at this place and no other. Both accosted her in the friendly fashion that was generally accorded her right and left in the city, and number two shortly made opportunity to submit the masterpiece of a poser.
“I say, Mrs. J—,” he began, “I understand you can talk lots about the Bible and all that. Now I want to ask you one thing.”
“Say on, sah,” replied Mrs. J—, readily choosing scriptural words in answer, after her quaint custom.
“Do you think,” said the gentleman, “that God is going to have an old black woman like you in heaven?”
“No, certainly not,” was the answer given without the least dismay and with great energy; “God won’t have any old black woman in heaven, course not. But, sah, I tell you dis, I’m going to have a new body—a glorified body—like Christ’s. Dat’s what. The Bible says,” quoting chapter and verse, “ ‘we shall all be changed,’ all who are washed in the precious blood of Christ. And then,” she wound up with her old joyous laugh,” shall we be forever with the Lord.
“But, sah,” she went on, “lemme ask you dis here. Does you suppose dat God’s goin to take a rich white man to heaven, wid all his sins ‘pon him?”
Her questioner was dumb.
“I told you so,” quietly observed the storekeeper.
Our sister was unquestionably victorious, and further improved the occasion by preaching Christ to them both in her simple, hearty fashion.
Extracted.
IT is a grand thing to be able, come what may, to vindicate God, to stand, even if we can do nothing more, as a monument of His unfailing faithfulness to all who put their trust in Him. What though the horizon around its be dark and depressing—though the heavy clouds gather, and the storm rage, God is faithful, and will not suffer us to be tempted above that we are able, but will, with the temptation, make a way of escape, that we may be able to bear it.
C. H. M.