It was Saturday, evening, and Mrs. O. was laying aside her bread-earning work to prepare for the Lord’s day. She had five children, Nelly the oldest was ten years old, and three boys aged six, four, and two, respectively, and a baby girl in her first year, each one must have a bath, and several little garments needed washing, so that each one might be sweet and clean.
On this particular evening, Mrs. O. allowed her eyes to wander around the cheerless, destitute home, and her heart sank within her as she realized her own helpless condition, for she had no friends to help her.
“Nelly my child,” she said, “you and I must prepare ourselves for another hard day tomorrow, we have but half a loaf left and 3 cents and what is that among so many, and I cannot think of drawing the little I have earned today, because it is needed for rent on Monday morning, so we shall have no dinner, but we will bare it bravely dear, and go to bed early.”
“O, mother, Nelly answered, “how can you say that; do you think God will let you work as you have done all this week, early and late, and then let us have no dinner on Sunday? I know He won’t.
Her mother’s heart was very full tonight, and the choking sobs now rose, in her throat; but no, she would not give way, before her children, for she knew that would mean sobbing all round, so she, turned aside until she had gained her usual control, then she spoke again,
“Nelly,” she said, “have you asked God for some dinner?”
“Yes,” said Nelly, “I have; and I know he will send us some.” Then said the mother,
“If you have asked God for it, and you feel sure He will send it, never you disappointed a trusting child since the world began, and He never will to its close, so we will cheer up and get ready.”
Scarcely had she ceased speaking when a knock was heard at the door.
“There,” said little Nellie, “didn’t I tell you.’’ But the mother said, “Hush, child, it may be a neighbor.”
But Nelly shook her head knowingly as the door opened, and a lady appeared.
“Mrs. O.,” said the lady, “whatever is the matter? I know it was God that would not let me rest at home. It is such a dreadful night, I made up my mind for a comfortable evening by the fire, but no sooner had I sat down in my easy chair than this thought came to me, ‘Have Mrs. O. and her children anything to eat tonight?’ I got up and went to the window, looked out, and went back to my chair, but I could not rest, for I felt I must come, so I got up and went to the door, but on opening it, the wind blew the snow in my face and settled the question. No said I, I will not go tonight, but I will go, if I am spared, the first thing on Monday morning, Scarcely had I sat down again, when my daughter came into the room and said.
‘O, mamma, I wonder if Mrs. O. an her children have anything to eat this bitter cold night?
That was more than I could stand, so here I am. I called at my butchers for a piece of the best cut, and here is bread, sugar, tea, and a pot of jam.”
The mother tried to speak her thanks, but failed through tears and sobs.
And so it was, that lady went away without receiving the thanks in words she so nobly deserved, and from that day to this, she never knew that the prayer arid faith of a little child had gone up to the throne of God, and moved that all powerful arm on her behalf.
Pray, little children pray:
Jesus will hear your cry,
And He will send the answer
Down from His home on high.
“He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he hath given, will He pay him again.” Prov. 19:17.
ML 08/18/1940