A FRIEND IN MISFORTUNE
JUST AT THE MOMENT THAT JAMES HAD ended his prayer, the sound of a footstep was heard among the withered leaves, and Anthony, the old forester, appeared, coming towards them through the trees. He was an old and dear friend, for he had been the chasseur of the Count and had traveled with him when James was also of the party. Thus they had spent many pleasant days together in foreign countries, and their friendship had been uninterrupted since. Anthony was now the Count's forester and had been out early that morning at his work in the woods.
"God bless you, James," said he. "I am thankful I am in time to see you. I thought I heard your voice through the trees. It is then true that they have had the cruelty to banish you? It is a hard thing for a man to be obliged to leave his fatherland and his home after he has come to our time of life."
"As far as the blue arch of heaven extends, the land belongs to my Father in heaven," said James; "so I may find a fatherland anywhere. We cannot be banished from His presence, or sent where His goodness will not follow us; but our true home is in heaven."
"And can it be possible," said Anthony indignantly, "that they have actually robbed you of everything and sent you away without even the necessary clothing for your journey?" "He who clothes the lilies of the field," replied James, "will also clothe us."
"But have you no money with you at all?" asked Anthony. "We have the treasure of a good conscience," said James, "which is greater riches than gold or silver."
"Is this empty basket, then," said the forester, "literally all you have brought with you? What may it be worth? A crown, perhaps," continued he, looking at it.
"If it is worth that, we are rich," said James. "If God continues to me the use of my hands, and blesses my labor, I can easily make a hundred of these baskets in a year, and we can live well on a hundred crowns.
"My father was a basket maker, and he taught me his trade, that I might have an occupation for my leisure hours in winter. He could not bear to see me sitting idle. I bless his memory for having taught me so early habits of constant industry. It is better for me than if he had left me a large legacy, and had, at the same time, allowed me to learn idle habits. A good conscience, health of body, and a respectable trade are the best fortune any one need wish for on earth."
"Well, I am glad to see you bear your misfortunes so well," said Anthony. "I must confess, too, that you are right. Your knowledge of gardening will be also a great help to you. But where are you going now to look for work?"
"We are going far away," said James, "to some place where we are not known. God will guide our steps."
"My friend," said the forester, "I cannot do much to help you, but will you take this thick knotted stick of mine? I am glad I thought of bringing it today to help me to climb the hill. You will need one for your weary journey. And here," said he, drawing out a little leather purse, "here is some money I received last night in payment for some wood in the village down there, where I slept last night."
"I will be very glad to take the stick, and I thank you very heartily for it," said James, "but I cannot take the money. If it is payment for wood it belongs to the Count."
"My good honest friend," said the forester, "be easy on that score; the money has been already paid to the Count. I advanced it some time ago for a poor man who had lost his cow, and had not ready money to pay for the wood which he had bought. He has prospered better since that time; and yesterday, when I did not at all expect it, he repaid me the loan with thanks. It has just come in time for you; take it as a gift which God sends to you."
"Well, I will take it, then, my kind, generous friend," said James; "and may God reward you!"
"See, Mary," continued he, addressing his daughter, "how God is already blessing us on our way. Before we have taken a single step in a strange land, He has sent this good old friend to meet us with money for our journey. Scarcely had we risen from our knees when we began to receive an answer to our prayers. It is, in truth, a fulfillment of His own blessed promise, 'When they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear.' Let us, then, trust and not be afraid. God will continue to watch over us."
The old forester took leave of them with tears in his eyes. "Good-bye, my honest friend James! Good-bye, my good little Mary!" said he, shaking hands heartily with them both. "I know you are innocent. I have always known you to be worthy people, and I continue to believe it. Do not be cast down; you will see the old proverb fulfilled—'Truth will out at last.' God will not forsake those who trust in Him as you do. May He bless you and guide you!" Saying these words, the old forester turned hastily away and took the road that led to Eichbourg.
James took his daughter by the hand and walked away in a contrary direction, like Abraham, "not knowing whither he went."
Reader, are you in sorrow—perhaps homeless, friendless, forsaken? Remember Him who has said, "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." Trust in His promise, and you will yet be able to praise Him. Say with the psalmist, "Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God; for I shall yet praise Him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God."