“CAN we have the chapter, mother?”
Old Grandfather Morris was getting weary, as he usually did about eight o’clock in the evening, and his voice was weak and quavering.
“Yes, dear,” his wife replied; “get the good Book, Mollie, and let us hear some of the dear Lord’s words!”
Little Mollie was their grandchild, and enjoyed very much a visit to the pretty country cottage so many miles from her London home amid the crowds and noise of-the busy city.
Very reverently the little girl handled the Book, the covers of which were almost black with age, and sat down at the fireside to read. “What shall it be, grandma?” she asked, “You shall, choose, Mollie, child.”
Mollie felt quite nervous with the responsibility; and lighting on the fifteenth chapter of St. Luke, saw on looking closer that there: was a mark and a date against the thirteenth Verse. So naturally she started reading just there.
Mollie fancied that as she read she heard a deep sigh from the old man, but paid no heed; only she thought when they knelt in prayer that grandfather was specially earnest in his petition that the heavenly Father would bring back the lost ones to His heavenly kingdom.
She felt sure that there were tears in grandma’s eyes when they arose from their knees; and being a loving little soul, she only waited until grandfather had slowly gone upstairs to bed, then putting her soft little arms round the ‘old lady’s shoulders, she whispered: —” Is anything the matter, grandma; has it anything to do with the marks in the Bible?”
“Yes, my dear, it has. Your Uncle Tom was a bad son; he nearly broke our hearts, and the night we heard’ that he had sailed away to. Australia, Dad wrote the date against the verse that says; ‘He took his journey into a far country.’ That’s ten years ago, Mollie, but every night we have prayed that he may be brought back; and one day, please God, we will put a date against the twenty-fourth verse that tells of the home-coming, and the joy, and the welcome!”
Grandma’s heart was too full to say more that night, but Mollie had enough to think about; and when she knelt at her little white bed that night she added to her evening prayer-this petition: “And please God bring Uncle Tom back soon, so that deaf grandpa can put the other mark in the Bible.” And God heard and answered the child’s request in His own good time.
It was some months later, and one wet and stormy night the door shook with the force of the gale, and Grandfather Morris seemed restless. Mollie thought that he must be tired, and suggested reading the Bible. But she had hardly taken it in her hands, when they were all startled by a knock at the door. It was such a faint knock, that at first they almost thought it must be the wind; but when it was repeated, Mollie jumped up, a great joy clutching at her heart. Could it be the answer to her prayer already?
The two old people turned round from the fireside to look out into the dark night where the wind and rain were driving in. Surely no lovelier picture of home ever greeted any returning wanderer.
Mollie peeped round the door. “Will you come in?” she said; “we cannot see who is there!”
Then into the light stepped a tall young colonial soldier.’
“Father! mother! can you forgive me?” And he knelt at the old man’s knee as he had done many a time as a little child. So Tom came home — and his mother’s tears were mingled with her blessings. Mollie could hardly get the supper ready, there was so much to hear; how a preacher out in the bush had met Tom, and had preached Christ to him; and how he had given himself entirely to God, trusting in the precious blood of Christ for the cleansing of his Sins! How he had joined the Colonial force, feeling it his duty, and how he had a whole fortnight to spend with the old people, which he meant to make the brightest in their lives!
But Mollie felt the great work of the evening was not yet accomplished; and as soon as supper was finished, she brought her grandfather pen and ink. For a moment the old man did not realize her meaning.
“What is this for, Mollie, love?” he questioned. “I’ve no writing to do to-night.” But with shining eyes the child replied: —
“Oh yes, grandpa, you have”; when she brought him the Bible, then he understood.
It was like a solemn rite. Grandma stood on one side of the table, holding Tom’s arm, and looking up into his strong, sunburnt face; Mollie holding her breath with eagerness while the old man put the date in weak, trembling figures.
Then he began to read: ―
For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.” And they all said “Amen.”
G. B. P.