The Organ Player

 •  4 min. read  •  grade level: 5
 
ONE DAY I was alone and sad; everything seemed dark and desolate to me, my soul was cast down, and I had forgotten the exhortation, “Cast thy burden upon the LORD, and He shall sustain thee.” Psa. 55:2222Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee: he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved. (Psalm 55:22). Suddenly, in the midst of the deep silence and loneliness of a sad evening, the sound of the sweetest music was heard. It was a boy playing an organ. What an intelligent face he had and the great black eyes which he turned on me spoke of want and suffering. “He is hungry,” I said to myself. I gave him some bread and meat on a plate, and added a tract, without having the courage to speak to him. However, this boy interested me deeply, and while watching him eat from my window I asked God over and over again to use this tract to the salvation of his soul. After he had eaten, he read the title, “How to Become a Christian,” and then put the tract carefully into his pocket.
Several years passed away, and war broke out, bringing its terrible story of suffering and distress, and so I forgot my young organ player. I visited one day a military hospital, where the wounded and the sick were cared for. The doctor was going his round; he was standing, silent and sad, by the bed of a young soldier, holding his wrist and feeling his pulse, which was beating more and more feebly. I bent down to look at him. His eyes were closed, and the stamp of death was printed on his face. At this moment the Chaplain came in; he bent over the dying soldier and seemed anxious to know if he were still breathing. Suddenly the young fellow opened his eyes and asked, “Am I going to die?” The Chaplain, who was saddened, did not answer.
“Oh, don’t be afraid to tell me! I am ready! God be praised!”
“I cannot say, my friend,” replied the Chaplain, “but do you know the Saviour of sinners? Do you love the Lord Jesus Christ?”
“Yes, yes, I have just seen Him. I am not wandering. I must tell you before I go.”
“Is your mother still living? Can I do anything for you?”
“Yes, sir, but she is not here. I shall be where she is soon. She is in heaven.” As he said those words, his eyes, which were already becoming dim, took on an expression of intense happiness. “But,” he added, “I have a young sister, poor girl; she will be very lonely now, but I have commended her to the Lord, and surely He will not forget her. I should like to be able to send her some little thing.” And so saying, he made a supreme effort to take from under his pillow his wallet, in which there was some money, then his Bible, a photograph, and a tract, the cover of which was dyed with his blood. “This little tract brought me salvation and to my dear mother as well. A long time ago I was a poor organ-player trying to support my mother and my little sister. We were very poor, when a kind lady gave me this tract. Oh! how happy my mother was when I read it to her! Up till then, no one had ever given us anything to show us the way to heaven. No one had ever spoken to us of this precious Saviour who died on the Cross to ransom us. Since then, we have prayed for this kind lady every day. How much I should like to see her again! Her little book was like the cup of cold water to my dying mother.”
I came nearer to his bed to hear all he was saying, for I had recognized in him the little organ-player who had formerly encouraged my downcast soul. A little while after he said in a low voice: “What a lovely dream it was! I had reached the gates of heaven, and I entered. Everything was so beautiful, so glorious, but I wanted to see my Saviour, and then my mother. She was there, close to Him. Then I thought of the kind lady with the little book. I wanted to see her, but she had not come there yet. A little while after the gates opened and she came in. I was longing to tell her what her little book had brought to us, and the Saviour who knew the desire of my heart said to me ‘Go.’ So I went, but I woke up. It was only a dream.”
I could no longer control myself, and sobbed aloud, which attracted the attention of the dying soldier. He recognized me. Marvelously surprised to see me, yet incapable of making any movement, he said slowly, looking up to heaven, “I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast answered my prayer. I know that Thou answerest the prayer of those that trust in Thee.”
My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.
ML-06/08/1969