Mary Jones lived many years ago in a village of Wales. Her father was a weaver, a kind honest man, who worked all day at his loom making cloth. The mother helped weave. Yet because in those. days the work was slow and the pay small, together they earned barely enough for each day’s needs.
Little Mary learned to do many tasks about the house and when older to weed the garden, feed the hens, and care for the bees. She was a prompt cheerful girl, who loved her home and the country round. She liked to look from their cottage door up the steep bluffs or down the pretty valley to the Bay.
But she enjoyed most the time when, the work laid aside for the night, her father told her stories of Joseph, Moses, or Daniel, or of the Lord Jesus feeding the hungry people, or healing the sick or lame. He could not read the stories to her for they had no Bible. All books were very expensive, so that few of the poor people had any. Many could not even read as there were very few schools. It was not until Mary was ten years old that a school was started where she quickly learned to read.
Then there was something which Mary wished for every day. It was to have a Bible that she might herself read all its wonderful words. So she decided she must try to earn money to buy one. She told her father this plan, and he made a little box in which she kept whatever she earned. Usually it was but a penny at a time, sometimes only a farthing for minding a neighbor’s baby, or washing dishes. As she grew older and could help with harder tasks and could mend neatly, she received a little more pay. Yet often there were weeks when there was no chance at all to earn. But after nearly six years of working and waiting, at last the necessary amount for a Welsh Bible lay in the little box.
The nearest place where a Bible could be bought was Bala, twenty-five miles distant and the only way for Mary to go there was to walk. Her parents gave their consent to the long journey, trusting God to keep her in safety.
So early one spring morning Mary started, barefooted, with her shoes in a bag carried over her shoulder, only to be worn when the town should be reached. The road was rough and hilly, but she felt happy and there was much pleasant to see. At noon she sat under a tree to eat her lunch, soon starting on again.
It was a very weary girl who at evening reached Bala and the house to which she had been directed and where she was kindly lodged for the night.
In the morning she joyfully exchanged her long-saved money for a Bible, and, with it held tightly to her heart, started the walk home. She arrived safely at night, tired, but happy to share her loved Book with her father and mother.
Often when we wish for something, and receive it, soon we do not care for it. But Mary never tired of her Bible. The more she read the more she prized it, and learned to repeat many verses and even chapters, and thought of them while busy about her work.
All who knew Mary spoke of her as a good, kind girl, yet she herself knew that there was sin in her heart and she had early learned that God is holy and that no sin can enter heaven. But in her Bible she read how the Son of God, the Lord Jesus, bore the punishment of sin when He died on the cross at Calvary, and that God waits to freely forgive all who trust in Jesus. That was why Mary valued God’s Word above anything else and why it made her so happy to read it.
Now we may easily obtain a Bible in any language but do we think of its truth and beauty, and love our God and Saviour as did this young girl?
Mary lived to be an old lady, helpful to those around her, ever counting her Bible her greatest comfort and treasure.
“Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him: but God hath reavealed them unto us by His Spirit.” 1 Cor. 2:9,109But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. 10But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit: for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God. (1 Corinthians 2:9‑10).
Praise God for the Bible!
Better far, than gold,
The words of sure promise
Its pages unfold.
ML 02/16/1936