A Norwegian farmer stood on the porch of his fine old home gazing out over his broad acres. He had traveled in foreign lands and had seen many wonderful landscapes; but never had he feasted his eyes on scenery that appeared so beautiful to him as his own land looked on this fair summer's day.
"All this is mine!" he exclaimed.
Like the rich farmer in the parable, he had provided for everything but the needs of his immortal soul. And like the Laodiceans of old who considered themselves rich, and increased with goods, and in need of nothing, he knew not that he was "wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind and naked.”
As he stood gloating over his land, a servant appeared with his riding horse. He jumped into the saddle and galloped away for a ride.
Up the lane a little distance old Hans, the farm hand, was working. The landlord stopped for a chat. Hans had just unpacked his lunch. He removed his hat, and with folded hands, was returning thanks to the Giver of all good gifts when he heard his employer's voice: "Well, Hans, how are you today?”
"Oh, is it you, sir?" responded the old man, looking up. "I did not hear you coming. I have grown somewhat deaf lately and my sight is failing too.”
"But you look very happy, Hans.”
"Happy? Yes, indeed, I am happy! I have many reasons to be. My heavenly Father gives me raiment and daily bread. I have a roof over my head, and a good bed to sleep in. That is more than my precious Savior had while He sojourned here below. I was just thanking God for all His mercies when you appeared.”
The landlord glanced at Hans' meager lunch—a few slices of bread and a piece of fried pork. "And that is the kind of food you are thanking God for, you poor fellow! I would feel quite deprived if that were all I had for dinner.”
"Would you?" asked Hans wonderingly. "But perhaps you do not know what I have that adds sweetness to everything God gives me. It is the inward presence of Christ my Savior! May I tell you a dream I had last night, sir?”
"Of course, Hans; tell your dream; I'd like to hear it.”
"As I was falling asleep my mind was much taken up with the happy land above and the many mansions prepared for those who truly love the Lord. Suddenly I felt myself transferred to the heavenly portals. They were wide open, so I could look into the blessed city. Oh, sir, the glory and beauty I saw no tongue could describe! Of course it was just a dream; but there was one thing I particularly want to tell you.”
The landlord began to look uneasy, as if he would like to get away. But Hans, not noticing, continued: "I heard a voice saying, 'The richest man in the valley will die tonight.' After that the most wonderful music—a real hallelujah chorus—burst upon my ears. Then I awoke.
"Sir, those solemn words were spoken so plainly. I have not since been able to forget them. I feel I ought to tell you. Perhaps it is a warning.”
The landlord's face turned pale, but he tried to hide the fears that rushed in upon him. "Nonsense!" he cried. "You may believe in dreams, if you like; but I do not. Good-by.”
He galloped away in great haste. Old Hans, looking after him, prayed, "O Lord, have mercy on his soul, if he is to die so soon.”
A couple of hours later the farmer rode in through his own gate and his servant took care of the horse. Hurrying into the parlor, he threw himself down on the sofa, feeling quite exhausted.
"What a fool I am for letting the silly talk of an ignorant old man disturb me! The richest man in the valley! Of course that is myself. But the idea of my dying tonight! I never have been so well in my life. At least, this morning I felt fine; but right now I do have a peculiar headache, and my heart does not seem to beat normally. Perhaps I should send for the doctor.”
Toward the evening the doctor came, in answer to his summons. The farmer, though somewhat feverish on account of his agitation, was at a loss to explain his disability.
Finally he repeated the strange remarks of old Hans. "And really, Doctor," he concluded, "I have not felt well since. Do you believe in dreams?”
"Dreams? Humbug! I thought you knew better than to believe in such stuff. You die tonight? Nonsense!" And the doctor laughed heartily.
"I am glad you came, Doctor; you seem to be the right man to cheer me. I hope you will stay for supper.”
The doctor lingered for several hours, employing all his ingenuity to entertain the farmer and drive away his gloomy thoughts. It was nearing ten o'clock when the doctor decided to leave. Just then the doorbell rang. Its shrill sound startled everyone in the house.
"Who can be calling at this time of night?" the farmer inquired anxiously. His nerves were on edge, and anything out of the ordinary seemed to him an omen of ill.
"Sorry to disturb you, sir. Just came to tell you that old Hans died suddenly this evening, and to ask if you will please make arrangements for the funeral.”
So the old man's dream had come true! It was not the possessor of broad and fertile acres, but the poor servant who lived in a shack and heartily thanked his heavenly Father for his coarse daily fare who was "the richest man in the valley." His ransomed soul had gone "sweeping through the gates, washed in the blood of the Lamb.”
How is it with you, dear reader? Are you rich in heavenly treasures as Hans was? Is his Savior yours?