ON THE EDGE of the great Canadian forest years ago there lived a settler with his wife and little son. Pierre was their treasure and a spial comfort to Mother when Father was away at work all day.
About a mile further in the woods and back off the main road was an old ramshackle cabin, occupied at times by a shiftless squatter and his wife. They too had a small son and sometimes he and Pierre would play together.
One morning the settler had set out on a journey that took him deep into the forest and would not return bore nightfall. Little Pierre grew tired of playing alone, and all unknown to his mother, he took off down the forest road to visit his little friend. By and by he arrived at the old cabin, only to find that there was no one there.
Hopeful that his playmate might yet return, Pierre waited. But this hope faded as the sun went down and dark shadows began to steal across the woodlands. Then a feeling of loneliness and fear took possession of the child. He longed to be with Mother now, but in the gathering dusk he was afraid to return home. The door on the cabin would not stay shut and this added to his fears. Tears flowed down the little fellow’s cheeks and he began to cry.
Trudging homeward along the lonely forest road, his gun over his shoulder, the returning settler heard the cry of a child and paused to listen.
“It must be that squatter’s boy,” he muttered in disgust as he walked on. “Likely his good-for-nothing father is off somewhere and has left the boy home alone.” Then as the cries of the child sounded forth louder and more plaintive, he paused again. He thought of his own little son whom he had left safe at home with his mother, and a feeling of pity for the lonely child welled up in his tender heart. Though it would take him out of his way, he decided to stop by the cabin and see if the boy was all right. So turning off the road he headed in the other direction.
But other forest dwellers had heard the crying of the child. Two hungry panthers, on their nightly prowl in search of food, also stopped to listen.
Something in those cries told these panthers that the child was alone. Moving noiselessly through the underbrush they reached the edge of the clearing in which the cabin stood. There was no one else in sight. Then, the female taking the lead, the two great beasts of prey moved cautiously toward the open door.
In the meanwhile the settler’s steady strides had brought him also to the edge of the clearing. Then as the cabin came into view he stopped suddenly in his tracks. A shudder passed through his strong frame as he saw the two large panthers approaching the open door.
“Thank God I came,” he murmured. Quickly he dropped on one knee and took a hasty but careful aim with his gun. A moment later the silence of the forest was shattered by the report of the gun, and the female panther fell, mortally wounded.
The astonished male walked about his dying mate, urging her to rise. He knew man had done the deed but where was the hated enemy?
Then as the smoke lifted, he saw the settler kneeling for a second shot. Mad with hate and fury the great cat launched itself on the man. Again the forest echoed with the gunfire as the panther received the charge full in the chest. Down went man and beast together. As the wounded animal clawed at him, the man forced his strong fingers down its throat. Minutes that seemed like hours passed; then the shot took effect, and the great beast rolled over dead.
Exhausted, but thankful to God, the settler picked himself up. And then from the darkness of the cabin he heard what almost caused his heart to miss a beat. It was the voice of one dearer to him than life, exclaiming:
“Oh, Daddy, I knew you’d come!”
The next moment the man was embracing his own dear boy and little Pierre’s arms were entwined around his father’s neck.
Who can tell the emotions that welled up in that father’s heart when he discovered that it was not the other man’s boy but his own little son he had saved?
“Thank God I came,” he said. And to think he had got there just in time!
“Daddy, I knew you’d come!” Oh, the faith and trust of a little child! And oh for the faith, dear friends, that calls upon God and waits for Him! They who put their trust in Him never were, and never shall be, ashamed or disappointed, even as the Lord could say on the cross, “Our fathers trusted in Thee... They cried unto Thee and were delivered: they trusted in Thee, and were not confounded.” Psa. 22:4,54Our fathers trusted in thee: they trusted, and thou didst deliver them. 5They cried unto thee, and were delivered: they trusted in thee, and were not confounded. (Psalm 22:4‑5).
Little Pierre did not know the depth of the love in his father’s heart for him; and you do not know, dear reader, the depths of love in the heart of God for you. He sent His own dear Son into this world to die to save you and to bring you home to Himself. And such is the Father’s love for His own Son that He is going to fill heaven with sons and daughters like Him. He wants to have you as one of His own children so that He might lavish His love upon you for all eternity. You can be among the myriads of redeemed that shall sing His praise in heaven forever.
The gospel day is drawing to a close; the night is gathering quickly, and judgment is near. Satan, as a roaring lion, that great enemy of your soul, is going about seeking whom he may devour. The Lord is still willing and able to save all who call upon Him.
— Retold.
ML-11/01/1970