(Continued from last week)
The sick man drew near to the little patient.
“Well, how is it?” he asked kindly. “Don’t you get tired of lying here?”
“Sometimes,” said Danny with a sweet smile. “But then Mother sings to me which makes me happy, and I forget the pain... Don’t you know Jesus?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know Jesus as you do, my boy.”
“O it’s easy,” said he with a bright smile, “and He’s so good!”
“Easy for you, Danny, but not for me.”
“Why, it’s only ‘Come unto Me,’ you know. Mother, please say the verse.”
“Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,” said Mrs. Marks softly. “It means a conscience weary of sin and self.”
“Weary,” murmured Mr. Irving, “heavy laden with sin and infirmities, both of body and mind.”
There was another silence and then Lily spoke up. “Daddy wants to feel happy in the dark nights like you do,” she said.
“That’s Jesus too,” answered the little fellow promptly. “That’s because He comes to me; and when it hurts most I sing to myself my little hymn:
“Jesus can make my bed of pain
Feel soft as downy pillows are;
While on His breast I lay my head
And in His love rest sweetly there.”
Who, looking upon the little fellow there, his white brow uplifted, his smiling eyes fastened upon the blue heavens, could doubt that he saw and held communion with the Lord?
“Dear little boy,” said Mr. Irving, lifting his head, “you have done me good. I can see that those who have lost all hope in this world can be happy, and even triumphant. Oh for his faith!" he added, turning to Day’s mother; “I would give all I possess to be able to lay serene and cheerful as he lies there today.”
“Sir, it need cost you nothing,” returned the mother. “Salvation and peace are without money and without price. It is only look to Christ and live. We are not saved by our own works or great deeds, but simply by believing what Christ did when He died on the cross.”
“Now, Daddy,” broke in Lily, “can’t you say, ‘Jesus'?” Her father burst into tears, and finding himself unable to regain his self-control he bade Lily accompany him to the car, and together they left the cottage.
Little Daniel grew weaker every day. Then one evening he asked, his voice fainter than it had ever been before, “Do you think the angels will come after me?”
“Yes, darling, I have no doubt they will.”
“Oh Mother, Jesus is with me!” Then he added, “And does it make you feel bad to give me up?”
“Danny, dear,” and her voice was low, “I give you into better hands than mine. I shall be very lonesome without my darling little boy, but this thought will always comfort me — you are in that blessed Home where you shall never know want or pain.”
Little Charlie was put to bed and the sorrowing mother prepared to sit up all night with the little sufferer. It was a beautiful moonlight night and the soft beams lay across the little bed where he lay. Mother thought df her little boy’s dreams as the room shone with clear pure light. They had sweet messages to give between them, and the moments were precious. He spoke of Lily and her father. “Tell Lily to put her trust in Jesus,” he said.
The child grew more beautiful as the night drew on. Many times he murmured, “Good night, dear Mother. Good night, dear Charlie!” At last he spoke no more, but smiling peacefully, he fixed his full blue eyes upon her, and gradually the light faded out of them — into heaven.
The widowed mother sat looking on that peaceful little form. “To suffer no more,” she murmured, as she wept and kissed him for the last time. “Oh my dear little boy, I would not, no I could not, call you back!”
(To be continued)
ML-06/20/1971