A few years ago, a Christian lady bought some New Testaments to circulate among the Jewish women in her town. Several of these had gone out with kind personal notes inside them, and when one of the last she had was ready, she started on her errand. The walk lengthened beyond her strength, and she sat down in a shelter on the sea front to rest a while. She noticed a woman sitting nearby, white and still, with closed eyes. She asked her, “Are you ill? Can I do anything for you?”
Her eyes opened; they were dark and despairing, and a voice, hollow and sad said, “Yes, I am ill, I am dying, but no one can help me with that!”
The Christian lady answered, “Christ can help you, and what a comfort He is.”
Anger, that almost paralyzed her hearer, rang in the scornful tones of the stranger, the dark eyes blazed. “Do not mention that name to me! The enemy of our race!”
With each nerve throbbing with anxiety to help, the Christian woman paused, uncertain how to answer. Falteringly she began: “Have you ever read the New Testament?”
“Never!” came the sharp response in the same scathing accent.
“To us who know the Book and love it your conduct seems like condemning a person unheard,” said the Christian. “You are dying, you say. The New Testament tells of a beautiful life beyond this. Oh, do read about Him!”
A weird smile lighted up the sad thin face. “Well, nothing can hurt me now. At any rate you meant well.” And the Jewish woman took the packet and slipped it into a bag.
A year went by, and again the Christian lady was on the sea front.
As she walked along, someone eyed her curiously, with an unfriendly gaze. “Are you Miss —?” asked the unfriendly stranger.
“Yes.”
“Then I have a message to give you. Do you remember giving a New Testament to a sick lady in a shelter here a year ago?”
“Yes.”
“Well, she is dead and I promised her if I ever met you I would tell you that she died in peace, trusting your Jesus Christ. I was foolish to promise her, but I did it, and I have kept my word; but I curse you for giving the Book to her; you have destroyed her soul.”
She was turning to go when the Christian lady said, “The New Testament, where is it?”
“I have it,” replied the stranger. “I promised her to keep it, but no one shall ever see it, it shall do no more harm.”
Many months went by, marked only by the silent prayer for that Jewish sister, still in darkness. Then, one morning a letter arrived in a strange handwriting, with a strange postmark. It said: “Your Jewish sister thanks and blesses you. I, too, have read the New Testament, and found the true Messiah. Pray that I may be faithful; all here are against me, especially my husband. He has taken the Book from me—pray for him also. Yours in the love of Christ.”
After several months another leer came. “When this reaches you I shall be with my sister before the heavenly throne. I am dying, as she did, of consumption, but I want you to know that I have been kept true, and that I have my dear copy of the New Testament again. Last week my husband gave it to me. He is kind and loving, but has not read it yet, so I am praying on.”
Christian friends, may this story encourage us to labor on for the Lord Jesus, for how little did the Christian in our story realize that so much blessing would come from her work. The Lord Jesus tells us that “The harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are few.” Matt. 9:3737Then saith he unto his disciples, The harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are few; (Matthew 9:37). A tract given out, or a word of encouragement, or a few words on the street corner may prove a blessing for time and eternity.
ML 07/23/1961