LITTLE Rose was one of the youngest, members of a Bible-class, which could boast among its numbers, not only of young women, but also of many who were married. We fear the sight of middle-aged women, taking lessons among scholars of only half their age, and humbly and reverently receiving instruction from the lips of a youthful teacher, is almost a vision of the past. Many a time it was after a tremendous battle with natural timidity, that the trembling teacher attempted a task for which she felt herself so utterly unworthy, but encouraged by the conviction that the Lord had distinctly called her to it.
The parents of Rose were at one time in easy circumstances, but money owing to her father had not been paid, and at the time of our story food was very dear; so it happened that at times the children were in want, and yet were remarkable for their blooming appearance. There was too much dignity of character about the parents to make their privations public, and, as the mother had a skillful hand, the children were always neatly attired.
Little did Rosie’s teacher, or indeed any of her companions, guess that the child often came hungry to the Sunday-school, or with no other dinner than that which the swedes and turnips in their little garden afforded.
One Sunday, as the family were at dinner, Rosie, who was the eldest, noticed that there was but a small piece of bread left for tea, so when her mother offered her a little of it, she refused it. On retiring to her bedroom the child began to speak to herself after this fashion: “My father and my mother are Christians, and Jesus is my Saviour. He loves me I know, and I love Him, for I am His. Does He not care that I am hungry?” She had closed the door, and falling upon her knees, with the tears streaming down her cheeks, she said: “Oh, my Father in heaven, who loved me so much as to send Jesus, Thy dear Son, to die for me, wilt Thou not let the people pay my father what they owe him, so that we may have plenty to eat? The Bible says to those that belong to Thee―and I belong to Thee― ‘Thy bread shall be given thee, and thy water shall be sure.’ Oh, God, Thou knowest we have not bread enough for all of us! Thou knowest my father will not allow us to go in debt for anything. Oh, God, do help us according as Thou hast promised, for the sake of the Lord Jesus.”
After this prayer Rosie went to school. “Perhaps,” thought she, “some of my schoolfellows will invite me to take tea with them; if so, I will go.”
The Bible lesson was a cheering one that afternoon, and the heart of the child was lifted above the things of time to the things of eternity. After an affectionate farewell to her teacher, Rosie was met at the door of the school by one of the elder girls of the class, who said, rather confusedly, “I hope you will not be offended, Rose, but yesterday, while I was helping my mother to bake, the thought kept coming in my head, to make a cake for you; and here it is,” added she, tugging at something under her shawl, and producing a currant cake sufficiently large to provide tea for a whole family.
Seeing Rosie’s stare of blank astonishment, the girl continued, “Once, when you were at our house, I heard you say you liked our plain currant cake, so that was why I made you this one. My mother said you would be offended, but I knew you better than that. So here it is, and leaving the parcel in Rosie’s hands.” Bessie Green ran away as if half ashamed of her kindness.
For one minute little Rosie stood at the door of the schoolhouse, with the paper-parcel in her hand, and then she hurried home, to fall upon her knees and to give thanks to her Father in heaven, who, even before she called, had been answering.
Rosie could but wonder why Bessie should think of doing such an unusual thing as to bring a cake to the Sunday-school! But the good Lord leads people to do strange things in order to be His messengers, in caring for those who put their trust in Him.
On the morrow one of her father’s debtors called and paid him some money, and in this she saw an additional answer to her prayer, but the quick response to that Sunday afternoon’s appeal has never been forgotten, and is still most sweet to her.
Rosie lived to grow up to be a woman, and during all the many years that have passed since that day she never recollects again being in so sore a need for bread.
Years after the occurrence of the incident, she confided these details to her teacher.
Well would it be for us all if we would thus learn, with the faith of a little child, to cast our care upon the Lord, for He careth for us. R. C. C.