FATHER,” said Edward, “you do not know what a number of beautiful things James has.”
“Yes,” added little Henry; “you know we paid him a visit yesterday, and he took us up to a room so filled with playthings, it looked like a store.”
Edward continued, “He had two guns, two drums, a fife, and they were real drums, the same as the soldiers use. And, father, there were trains and a steam engine, and railroad tracks.”
“And soldiers,” continued Henry, “and all kinds of blocks for building. Then he took us outside, and showed us a real live pony, and a whip that must have cost several dollars, and such a lovely saddle and bridle. And that is not all; a garden filled with beautiful flowers, white rabbits, and a dear little squirrel that plays all sorts of tricks in his cage, and a parrot that talks like a person.”
But, after all, though James had everything to make him happy, Edward and Henry had to own that he was one of the most unhappy and disagreeable boys they knew. Their father showed them plainly that it was because nothing had been denied him. All his wishes had been granted, and that he had become exacting and selfish, consequently he had grown dissatisfied and gloomy.
Mr. Thompson told his boys that the next day he would take them to see a happy boy.
“Is this the place?” said Edward, as the carriage stopped in front of a small brown house with a very plain exterior.
“Yes, my children, get down and follow me.”
They entered the small two room cottage. In one of the rooms, lying on a poor little bed, they saw a pale, thin boy, for disease had left its stamp on his features. His hands were outside the covers, and they were so emaciated, they looked almost like polished glass. A few playthings were scattered over the bed, and on a small table close by there was a pot of flowers, a Bible; and a hymn book. Neither of these were in very good condition.
It was over a year since this child had been able to stand, but for four months he had been lying on his back, and it was impossible to change his position.
“What is the matter with him?” Henry asked the mother.
“The Doctor says his bones are decaying,” answered the poor woman. “Two years ago he felt intense pain in his foot, and it had to be cut off in hopes that it would be the end of the trouble, but it did no good, the disease goes on getting higher all the time. Soon it will be the death of my dear child. His sufferings are terrible, especially at night. and for days he cannot sleep at all.”
“O, father, this is dreadful!” said Edward hugging close to his father.
“I thought you were going to sh.my us a really happy child,” said Henry.
“Wait a moment, my children,” said Mr. Thompson. Then turning to the sick boy, he said, “My brave boy, are you not tired of lying on that bed so long?”
“Sometimes,” said the poor child with a sweet smile; “but when I see all the pretty things I have, it drives away my weariness.”
“What are they?”
“Why, I have this knife, I can cut wood with it, and a lady gave me this china dog a little while ago, and it gives me so much pleasure. And don’t you see that lovely bed of flowers in the front yard? My good mother planted those flowers last spring to surprise me. She waters and tends to them every evening when she has finished her work. The flowers are so sweet, and how I love to look at them! I can see them from my bed, and here are some in this vase, are they not beautiful?”
“Yes, indeed, they are; but are not your sufferings terrible?”
“Sometimes; but sir, I remember that the Lord would not let we suffer so if it were not for my good, so I try to bear them patiently, knowing how much more my Saviour bore for me. There are some lovely hymns in my hymn boo’s; I never get tired of singing, and my Bible is full of promises that fill me with joy, but without them I do not know what I should do.”
“But are you never impatient and envious, when you see other children running and jumping outside?”
“Never! God knows what I need. I leave it all with Him. My Saviour is close to me. I love to think of Him when I am alone and all is quiet.”
“Do you not hope to be well someday, and be out again?”
“Oh, no! I know I cannot get well, everyone says so.”
“Don’t you fear death?”
“Not at all, I shall be so happy to die. I long to see my Saviour! What makes me feel badly, is the thought of my poor mother being so lonely when I am gone.”
“Is there nothing I can do for you? Don’t you need anything? How I would love to be able to add to your comfort.”
“Thank you, sir; I assure you, I don’t need anything. I know God would raise me up right now, if it was best for me. I know I am much happier than when I was well.”
“But how can that be?”
“Because, before I was sick I did not love God; I did not read my Bible; I had no pleasure when I thought of heaven. Oh, I have had so much joy since I have been sick.”
Edward and Henry looked at each other with astonishment. When they were outside, Mr. Thompson said, “Well, my children, that boy seems really happy, though poor, sick, suffering, and with few things to attract him. What a contrast from James I it is easy to see the reason,” continued the father; “James is selfish, proud, dissatisfied and unthankful. From morning till night, he thinks only of himself, and that is the source of his misery. Then this dear boy we have just seen, knows the source of true happiness. He has found Jesus to be his own Saviour, and the Good Shepherd leads him beside the waters of quietness, and lets him feed in the green pastures of love, and so, he can rejoice, in the midst of his awful sufferings. Truly the Lord upholds and sustains him.”
Dear readers, do you know anything of this happiness? Youth does not always last; suffering and trial may come. Will you not let Jesus be your Saviour, too? Then you will learn of Him who is meek and lowly in heart, and words cannot express the joy of being able to turn to Him in every time of need.
ML 04/18/1909