Four little school-girls, returning to their home, were overtaken by a storm of wind and rain. For a time, they were sheltered under the large umbrella of one, but, after a while, the wind overturned and broke it. Then the eldest covered her little sister with her cloak, but it also was pulled away by the force of the storm. The youngest girl, who was in delicate health, became faint and unable to go any further. Her devoted sister, although exhausted by the long journey, lifted her, and carried her on her back through the ever-increasing fury of the storm, till she reached their home. Within a step of the door, she sank exhausted, but her younger sister was saved.
That noble act cost the elder girl her life. She never recovered from the effects of it. Grasping her sister, whose life she had saved, with her wasted, feeble hands, she said: “I am so glad I brought you safely home that day. Will you think of me when I am gone, and remember you had a sister who loved you?”
With many tears and kisses, the younger girl promised she would ever remember her love. A few months later, in the village burying ground, a plain slab was erected above a green grave, bearing the simple, but touching inscription,
“In Loving Memory of my Dear Sister
Wilhelmina
who gave her life to save mine.”
“The Son of God who loved me, and gave
Himself for me.”
“We love Him because He first loved us.”
Many who visit that quiet spot, are told the story of that sister’s love, and are led to think of a greater love, even the love of Jesus, who died—not for His friends—but for His enemies, that they might be saved.
Have you believed on, and welcomed, Him as your Saviour; and can you say truthfully: “I live, because He died?”
ML 04/05/1931