SOME YEARS AGO there was a God-fearing woman who was suddenly confronted with the whole responsibility of caring for her family. She and her husband had eight children, seven of them girls. Quite suddenly the father died, leaving the mother and the children.
The widow was able to provide her family with food and clothing but she sought to feed their souls as well. She read the Bible stories to them, told them of the Saviour’s love and sought to bring them to Christ. These efforts were richly rewarded as far as the girls were concerned. While they were yet young they were saved, and as they grew up they learned more about their Saviour.
Alas, the widow’s only son rejected his mother’s tender care and went on in a way dishonoring to his parents and to God. He refused to go to school or to learn a trade. Finally he determined to go to sea. When he left home, his mother gave him a New Testament in which, on the fly-leaf, she had written both his name and hers. Earnestly and tenderly she implored him to keep the book and to read it, if only for her sake.
Years passed and the heartless son made no effort to write his mother or his sisters. Whenever they could they inquired about his ship, but it was rare to hear anything about their son and brother. On one occasion, however, a sea captain said that he knew the ship but that it had been wrecked. The grief-stricken mother returned to her little home with the sad lament, “I shall go down to the grave sorrowing over my poor son.”
Yet more years passed, and in the meantime the widow had moved to a home in one of the seaport towns. One day there was a knock at the door. A poor, bedraggled sailor stood there, and asked for food and clothing.
The widow provided what she could from her meager store and as the sailor ate she listened to his story. He had been through many dangers, he said, and had been shipwrecked more than once. In one of those shipwrecks he and another young man were the only ones saved from the whole crew. They found themselves alone on a deserted island. At last rescuers came but it was too late for the other sailor.
“He was suffering from injuries and exposure and on the seventh day he died. Poor boy! I shall never forget him.” The tears rolled down his cheeks, as he continued his story.
“Day and night he read in a little book. He said his mother had given it to him and it was the only thing he saved in the shipwreck. He often spoke of his mother and the book she had given him. Just before he died he handed it to me, saying, " ‘There, Joe; take this book; keep it and read it. And may God bless you as He has me.’
“Then he pressed my hand, and passed away in peace.”
The sailor then took out of his ragged coat a little book, very much worn and soiled. With the words, “Here is the book,” he held it out to her. The widow took it in her trembling hands and opening it to the flyleaf, she saw in her own handwriting her son’s name and her own. Suddenly the pent-up emotion could be contained no longer. The now aged mother sobbed unashamedly.
As she regained her composure she told her story of the little New Testament and of how its return to her was as a voice that seemed to say, “Behold, your son lives!” In the midst of her rejoicing she lifted her eyes to ward heaven and said, “Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy Word: for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation.” Luke 2:29-3029Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: 30For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, (Luke 2:29‑30).
Who can measure the love of a mother who never ceased to care for her wayward, cold-hearted son? But, oh, what is that love compared to the love of God who gave His only Son to die for lost, guilty sinners? Who can measure the love of Christ, who gave Himself for me?
Friend, have you, like that sailor, rebelled against your parents and your God? Have you, perhaps, carried a Bible with you but let it rain a closed book to you? Stop where you are! Listen to the Bible, the Word of God.
ML-07/28/1963