IN A beautiful city park, an old I soldier might have been seen sitting on a homemade bench. Beside him a little dog sat on his haunches. He held in his mouth his master’s old tattered hat into which the more charitable folks would toss pennies as they passed by. The old veteran’s meager pension was not enough for his bodily needs, and so to supplement his scanty income he had obtained an old fiddle on which he played a few tunes. It was scratchy music and the best he could offer was very poor.
On this particular day scarcely anyone took notice of the old man, and so, few pennies found their way into the old hat, held firmly by his faithful friend. The old veteran was discouraged and stroking his pet he said, affectionately, “Ah, Fido, I’m afraid there’ll be no bone for you tight!” The little dog wagged his tail, and as he looked imploringly up into his master’s face tears flowed down the aged man’s cheeks. Fido began to whine, as if to say, “Oh I’m so hungry!”
Unknown to the old man a well-dressed gentleman had been standing behind the pair, watching and listening intently. Then he stepped up close and asked the old veteran if he would lend him his violin for just a few minutes. Taking the instrument he carefully tightened the strings and adjusted them. Then, after tightening the bow, he began to play.
Such rapturous chords now began to flow from the old violin — music so sweet and so rare that passers-by were arrested, and stayed to listen. The stranger played on, and as he warmed up to his playing the sweeter the melody that filled the air. Quickly a crowd began to gather. As they listened enraptured, hearts were touched as they saw the little dog faithfully holding out the open hat. Pockets and purses were opened and soon the old battered hat was weighed down with the money that flowed in.
But the old man heeded not the money that was dropping into his hat. The musician and his fiddle, his dear old fiddle, were a miracle to him. How could that stranger draw such exquisite strains from that old violin of his? Ah! It was a master that had hold of it — a master violinist, one of the greatest — that was the secret. Kind-hearted as he was, the stranger who had appeared as it were from nowhere, when his wish was fulfilled, after laying the old, but beloved fiddle in the aged veteran’s lap, vanished as quickly as he came.
Then another gentleman, who had witnessed the whole scene, told the large audience who the violinist was. He took the old hat and passed it around to the crowd and soon it was filled to the brim with money, including many large bills. The old veteran, along with his pension, now had enough to last him for the rest of his days. Hugging his fiddle, and stroking his little dog, who seemed to enter into the spirit of things, he went home to his attic room, with more than one bone for his little pet.
That old violin makes one think of how the Lord Jesus, the blessed Man from heaven, takes up poor sinners in His grace, and draws from them sweetest songs of praise that delight His ear. He comes into our lives, cleanses us from our sins — for this He died upon the cross adjusts the strings of our hearts, and then by His Spirit He begins to draw forth from them songs and hymns of praise that will fill heaven by-and-by. Those whom He has redeemed go on their way to heaven singing the song: “Unto Him that loved us and washed us from our sins in His own blood... to Him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen!” Rev. 1:5,6.
Dear young reader, have you learned to sing that song? You will rejoice if you learn it, but you will never be truly happy until you do. May the Lord Himself lead you to own Him as your Saviour and then you will be able to say, “He hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God.” Psa. 40:3.
Beloved, fellow-Christians, are not our hearts like that old fiddle often-times? How little there is for the Lord in them, when we ought to be making melody in our hearts unto Him (Eph. 5:19). Unless the Chief Singer vibrates our hearts, there will be no songs of praise for Him. Yet He is so worthy, and longs for it, even from our poor hearts. Our hearts purified by faith, indwelt by the Holy Ghost, and He, our beloved Lord, leading the singing, we are well able to praise Him, even at midnight, as we shall through endless days.
ML-02/10/1974