LYING upon my table, as I write, are three pieces of flint. These silent stones lead my thoughts back more than twenty years, when, one lovely summer day, three gentlemen, accompanied by a girl of about fourteen, might have been seen wending their way along a country road, on the borders of Gloucestershire.
The girl, whom we will call Lily, was a niece of one of the party, and was spending her summer holidays at her uncle’s, in the picturesque village where he lived. She had been charmed with the lovely parks and beautiful dales of the neighborhood, and was just now listening, with rapt attention, to a graphic history of the ancient Roman road upon which they were traveling. They were on their way to “The Beacon,” which stands upon the top of Broadway Hill, and which, to Lily’s amusement, the country people called “Broadie Bacon.”
Upon reaching it, they were admitted by a woman, who smilingly recognizing one of the gentlemen, dropped a courtesy as he introduced the other visitors. They proceeded up a spiral staircase, and, after partaking of some refreshment in a curious little eight-sided room, went out on the leaden roof, and enjoyed the beautiful prospect of waving cornfields and teeming orchards, the people below appearing as pigmies.
After a while they descended through the trap door and seated themselves again in the octagon room. Here Lily listened for some time to a discussion between the gentlemen upon some abstruse question but, as it grew argumentative, the young girl wearied of it, and slipped away. She set off on a little journey of discovery on her own account; descending a few steps she saw a door ajar, and peeping inside, her attention was at once riveted.
This room was of the same shape as the other, and its walls were covered with ancient shields, helmets and breastplates, and different sorts of weapons, from the Saxon bow and arrow, to the clumsy blunderbuss of more recent times. These articles covered two sides of the room, while in a corner was a bed hung round with old fashioned curtains.
The woman, who had admitted the party on their arrival, catching sight of the young girl, came to the door, and said, “Will you please to come in, Miss, and look about a bit? You will be sure to like to see these ancient arms.” As Lily was examining the curtains of the quaint bedstead, she was surprised to find lying behind them an old woman.
“Oh! that is my poor mother, Miss,” said the woman; “she has chalk rheumatism;” and turning up her mother’s sleeve, showed to the amazed girl how the bone of the arm would bend up, and a chalky substance like whitening fall from the sleeve.
While talking over the poor old woman’s malady, it occurred to the girl that the sufferer, who had been confined to her bed for many years, had a soul which must be saved or lost forever, and as she held the old woman’s hand in hers tenderly, she thought, “Perhaps this dear woman is ignorant of the great salvation.”
“You are only a child,” suggested Satan. “You require to be taught yourself. These people will think you bold and forward if you set yourself up for a teacher.” Then the scripture came to Lily: “Whosoever shall be ashamed of Me and of My words, of him shall the Son of Man be ashamed.” (Luke 9:2626For whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words, of him shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he shall come in his own glory, and in his Father's, and of the holy angels. (Luke 9:26)). Now, she was naturally very nervous, and, with a flushed and tearful face, she looked at the old woman lying so helpless before her, and gently asked, “Are you a Christian?”
“Why, yes, my dear,” replied she, “I was made a Christian when I was a baby.”
Lily opened her eyes in astonishment, for she knew the word of God says, “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Gazing earnestly on the sufferer, she said, “I am much younger than you, but please let me ask, if you know who Jesus Christ is?”
“He is something to do with God,” replied the old woman. “It is very far to church from here, and of course it is a very long time since I was there; but I never did anybody any harm, and I always paid what I owed, so I have reason to hope to go to heaven, because God is merciful.”
Lily was deeply shocked to discover the great spiritual darkness of this poor invalid, who, although living in a land of Bibles, was trusting entirely in her own goodness, instead of in the merits of Christ the Saviour. Silently sending up a quick petition to God for help, she began repeating passages from the Bible to prove to the old woman her lost condition. “All we like sheep have gone astray.” (Isa. 53:66All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:6)). “All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” (Rom. 3:2323For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; (Romans 3:23)). “He that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.” (John 3:1818He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. (John 3:18)). Then in earnest, simple language, Lily told how the Father had sent His only Son, that He might save the lost, and how the Son of God had said, “Lo, I come to do Thy will, O God” (Heb. 10:99Then said he, Lo, I come to do thy will, O God. He taketh away the first, that he may establish the second. (Hebrews 10:9)).; and she described the Cross and Calvary. Indeed, she quite forgot her timidity, and her listeners became eager to hear. The Holy Spirit helped the girl, as she entreated the old woman to rest upon Christ alone and upon His great work for eternity, because “He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him.” (John 3:3636He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him. (John 3:36)).
Clasping Lily’s hand, the aged woman exclaimed, “Oh! Miss, I never heard it like that afore. I am a wicked old creature, not to have loved such a Saviour. Will you kneel down and pray for me?”
“And for me, please,” echoed the younger woman.
Can my young readers imagine how hard this was for Lily to do? She had never prayed for other than the ear of God before, and now here were two women, with streaming eyes and anxious hearts, waiting for her, a child, to help them and lead them in prayer. It was to Lily a hard struggle between a deep desire to help these anxious souls, and great natural timidity; however, she knelt down, though feeling so confused that she feared she would be unable to put into words the many emotions and thoughts of her heart. Again, the Spirit of God helped her in her weakness, and the words flowed freely.
At the conclusion they both kissed the girl affectionately, thanking her again and again for her prayer and her words; and the old woman declared that the Lord had sent her as a messenger of glad tidings to her soul.
Lily now became afraid she would be missed, and was just about to seek her uncle, when the door opened, and the gentlemen entered to inquire after the aged invalid, of whom they had heard. Lily turned towards the ancient armor, first whispering to the old woman not to mention their conversation, when the uncle, catching sight of his niece, exclaimed, “So you are looking at the curiosities? I expected to find you here.”
On reaching the outer door, the daughter drew Lily back for a moment, and throwing her arms around her, said, “God bless you, Miss. Will you pray for me, and for my poor old mother?” This Lily promised to do; and then the woman turned to the mantel shelf, and taking from it three stones presented them to Lily, saying with tears, “I have nothing to give you but these stones. Please take them, Miss, and every time you see them pray for us.”
Lily carried the stones to her country home, and for months, whenever she saw them, she breathed a prayer that God would save and bless the poor women.
Two summers passed away after this event—summers during which the girl heard nothing of the old woman at the Beacon, but at the end of that time a friend from that neighborhood inquired of Lily if she had visited an old woman at Broad way Beacon, and then, without waiting for a reply, continued, “She died a short time ago, and I have been asked to tell you that she died very happy, trusting in Jesus. She often told the minister, who visited her, about some young girl, with dark curly hair, who had told her of her sins, and had taught her of the Saviour’s love; and she would say, I believe in Him, and want to thank that young lady, and to tell her how God has heard her prayers. The minister has inquired as to what girl it could have been, but nobody seems to know, but we now think it may possibly be you.”
Lily felt quite unable to reply. She asked no questions, but hurried away, and in the silence of her own room shared with the Saviour the joy there is in the presence of the angels when a sinner repents. It seemed almost too great a blessing, that the few trembling words of a child should have been used of God to save a soul.
Years have passed since then, but Lily still keeps the three stones, and can never look upon them without thanking God that He helped her to speak for Him that day.
Some few years ago, in company with her husband, Lily revisited the Beacon; but it was shut up, and all she could learn was that the woman had left the place.
Dear Christian reader, we have given this incident in the hope that, if the Holy Spirit constrains you to do anything for the Lord, it may encourage you not to reason with self, or with convenience, or with Satan, or to think how strange the work is, or that someone else may do it better. If it be to comfort a poor child, or to point a poor old woman to Jesus, let nothing hinder when the Holy Spirit calls. Lily heard no voice, yet she was persuaded that God required her to tell these people about His love. There may be a struggle to do right, but the joy, the sweet happiness, and the deep satisfaction that fills the obedient soul will surely follow.
O eyes, just reading this page, will you not drop a tear for the perishing? O tongue, so eloquent in some cause of your own, will you not speak a word for the dear Master who has shed His blood for you? O hands, now clasping this, will you not clasp some other hand in yours, and lead some wanderer home? Then shall the voice of these three stones and the memorial of a young girl’s early experience be not in vain.
R. C. C.