IT was a hot and sunny day—just one of those days when you long for a cool, shady tree, and makes the temptation to sit down under the tree fairly irresistible. While walking along a country road I came upon a man sitting by the roadside on the bank reading a book which was spread open on his knees.
“Silly fellow to try his eyes by reading in such bright sunlight” thought I; but as I drew nearer I found that the man was reading with his fingers instead of his eyes. Yes, he was blind, and his book was one of those with raised types, which have proved such a boon to many a poor possessor of sightless eyes.
“Good morning, friend! You have something to read which interests you. Where did you get hold of such a good book?”
“Yes, sir, it is interesting. A lady lent it to me. It’s the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’ sir.”
I sat by his side much interested, and after some further talk remarked, “What a beautiful day it is! It seems a pity you can’t enjoy a day like this as I can.”
“Well, sir, I can enjoy it very much more than you think I can. I can enjoy the prospect of this lovely country as much as yourself! Aren’t those copper beeches lovely with the sunshine on the leaves? They’ve such a fine rich brown color! And, look there,” he continued, pointing to the left, “that road takes you through one of the prettiest woods in the county. Do you see the fine old Tudor house at the foot of the hill? It’s a fine building, with its red bricks and its ivy-covered gables and its mullioned windows.”
“Why, my friend, I thought you were blind!”
“So I am, sir; I’ve been blind ever since I was a young child,”
“But how is it you are able to describe the scenery round so accurately?”
“Well, sir, I have some little idea of color and distance; and a young fellow who lives in our village often comes and sits down beside me during his dinner hour, and he tells me all about the views and the scenery, so that all the objects round are quite familiar to me.”
“Then you believe all he tells you; are you not afraid of his telling you what is not true?” I asked.
“No fear of that, sir,” was the hearty response; “I, know him too well. He wouldn’t tell a lie,” and a bright, confident smile came over the old man’s face.
Shall I tell you my thoughts? They were: How much all this is like the Lord Jesus Christ. As that blind man heard and believed what an unseen friend told him; so we hear the Lord Jesus, believe in Him, and are saved. Then our blind eyes cannot see, our hearts cannot conceive the things God has prepared for them that love Him. But by faith we can see some of the glories of that heavenly land, for has He not told us, “In My Father’s house are many mansions; I go to prepare a place for you”? John 11:11Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha. (John 11:1).
True, our eyes have not seen, but “He is faithful, His Word is true!” “We have not followed cunningly devised fables,” and one day our eye “shall see the King in His beauty.”
ML-10/13/1935