To Me to Live Is  — -

 •  6 min. read  •  grade level: 8
 
The ball was over, the last carriage full of guests had driven away, and now Arthur S— stood in his room, considering a piece of paper that he held in his hand, which he had taken out of his pocket, on which was written the words which form the title of this true story.
Today he had come of age. A large dinner and ball had been given in honor of the event.
It had all passed off successfully, and he had enjoyed himself thoroughly, and now, as he was going to bed in the early hours of the morning, he remembered suddenly a request made to him during the day just passed.
Among the guests had been an old uncle of his, “My religious old uncle,” as Arthur laughingly styled him, indeed, he was rather afraid of him, as on the few occasions on which they had met, this uncle had always spoken to him about eternal things, which was the last subject Arthur cared to hear about. However, this uncle was very wealthy, and so his nephew felt he must needs keep in with him, and, of course, on this occasion of his twenty-first birthday, this religious old uncle had to be asked to the celebrations, and when he came down and presented Arthur with a very handsome check, he felt more kindly disposed towards him than usual. His uncle was not staying to the dinner and following ball, as he said those things were not in his line, so when he asked his nephew to walk round the grounds with him before he went away, Arthur could not but accede, though he was in a great fright for fear he should speak to him about his soul.
His uncle guessed what was passing in his mind, for as they went along the carriage drive, he suddenly said, “I daresay you are fearing that I am going to speak to you about religious things.” Arthur admitted that he had feared he might do so.
“No,” his uncle said, “I am not going to say a word to you of that kind today, but I want you to make me a promise instead, that you will take this piece of paper that I have in my hand and when you go to your bed tonight you will read what is written on it, and fill in the word that is wanted to complete the sentence,” and he handed the young fellow a folded piece of paper. Arthur took it and readily made the promise, only too pleased to get off so easily as he thought.
And now, the day is over, and he stands in his room, and before getting into bed pauses to fulfill his promise.
Let us look over his shoulder and read what is written.
“To me to live is —.”
“What in the world does it mean?” Arthur murmurs to himself. “Ah, what is that written in the corner, perhaps it will explain? Philippians 1:2020According to my earnest expectation and my hope, that in nothing I shall be ashamed, but that with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether it be by life, or by death. (Philippians 1:20). O, that is a text; evidently I have got to fill in the missing word, probably that will tell me what to put. What funny notions my religious old uncle has!”
“‘To me to live is Christ.’ Hmm, I cannot put that, at least I will be honest; I must write something though, as I promised the old fellow that I would. Whatever shall I put? What would the truth be anyway? ‘To me to live is —” and he paused, “to enjoy myself; that is about it, and why should I not put it, it is nothing to be ashamed of that I can see—why should I not enjoy myself, I wonder? I will write that— To me to live is—to enjoy myself,’” and Arthur signed his name to it, and with a sigh of relief at having accomplished the task imposed upon him, put the paper away in a drawer and got into bed, and thought no more of it.
Years passed away—Arthur S— had married and had one little girl, ere we hear of him again. But things had not continued to go prosperously with him; life had not yielded him so much enjoyment and satisfaction as he had expected, and at last the day came when his money and possessions all went from him at one blow, and he had to sell his beautiful house and all that it contained. Today, another summer day, such as that on which his birthday had fallen so many years ago, an auction had taken place in his old home, and now he stands watching the men as they pack and take away the furniture. “My life has been a failure,” he gloomily mutters to himself, with a bitter, hard expression on the face that had once been so carelessly happy and boyish-looking.
His little girl, too young to realize the tragedy of it all, is running about the dismantled room, examining with childish curiosity the remaining pieces of furniture scattered about. All at once she comes running up to her father holding up to him a piece of paper carefully folded, that she has found in an old drawer of the cabinet. “See, Daddy, what I have found; look, what is written on it?” she asks him excitedly.
Her father absently takes the paper, unfolds it and reads, “To me to live is—to enjoy myself,” and, his own signature at the end. In an instant it all comes back to him, that night long ago, when he so thoughtlessly penned those words— “To enjoy myself.” Ah, what a miserable failure it had indeed all been!
He turned away, unable to bear the questioning gaze of his little daughter, and left the room. His life came up in review before him.
“He had lived for himself,
He had thought for himself,
For himself and none beside,
Just as if Jesus had never lived.
As if He had never died.”
And what had been the end of it all? God spoke to him then and there, through that message from the past.
He fell on his knees owning his sin and folly and the huge mistake he had made, how he had left God out of all his thoughts and his life.
“Henceforth,” he said, “to me to live shall be Christ,” and then and there Arthur S— gave himself to the Savior who had loved him, and had died to save him.