“Well, Molly,” said the judge, going up to an old apple seller’s stand, “don’t you get tired sitting here these cold, dismal days?”
“It’s only a little while, sir,” she said.
“And the hot, dusty days?”
“It’s only a little while,” answered Molly.
“And the rainy, drizzly days?”
“It’s only a little while.”
“And your sick, rheumatic days?”
“It’s only a little while, sir.”
“And what then, Molly?” asked the judge.
“I shall enter into that rest which remains for the people of God,” answered the old woman quietly, “and the troubles of the way cannot fret me. It’s only a little while, sir.”
“All’s well that ends well, I suppose,” said the judge. “But what makes you so sure, Molly?”
“How can I not be sure, sir, since Jesus is the way, and He is mine and I am His. I shall see Him as He is in a little while.”
“Ah, Molly, you’ve got more than the law ever taught me!”
“Yes, sir, because I went to the gospel.”
“Well, Molly, I must look into these things,” said the judge, as he bought an apple.
“There’s only a little while, sir, for that, and we are not quite sure of having even a little while,” she said as he started to walk away.
“ Yet a little while,
and He that shall come will come,
and will not tarry.”
“ Watch therefore,
for ye know neither the day
nor the hour wherein the
Son of man cometh.”