It was a cold, windy day that Helen Turner chose for visiting poor, sick Ruth Morris, who had just met with such a frightful accident—an accident which had thrilled the tiny village heart with truest sympathy, for Ruth’s sweet, patient, Christian life was not unknown or unnoticed, and she was beloved by all who in any way came in contact with her.
Helen Turner was the daughter of a leading business man in W—, a well-disposed girl, not a decided Christian, but yet loving to do deeds of kindness for their own sake, and hence she might be found today trudging through the muddy streets and facing the bitter east wind with a brightly-bound volume under her arm, intending to lighten an hour of Ruth’s sufferings by reading aloud to her.
She entered Ruth’s room, on the north side of a small, bleak house. It had not looked pleasant without, but it was scarcely more cheerful within doors. The window looked out on a bare wall, with a peep of sky above three chimneys, and the yellow and green leaves of an old tree, were the only objects that Ruth’s eyes could rest upon. Yet the girl’s face was bright and cheerful, and she greeted Helen with a grateful smile. After a few remarks, Helen burst out with the thoughts that had filled her mind ever since she entered the room.
“Poor Ruth! How I pity you. What a cheerless life yours is, and what a pity your room is on the north side of the house.”
Ruth looked so astonished that Helen went on: “You see you never get any sun —not a ray comes in at these windows. It’s too bad! Sunshine is everything. I love the sun, and I could not live as you do, without it.”
Helen has never forgotten the sweet, still smile that flooded Ruth’s pale face with the light of an autumn sunset, as she answered:
“O! my sun pours in at every window and every crack—I am in the sunlight all day long.”
Seeing Helen’s surprised, questioning look, she continued softly—
“The Sun of Righteousness, you know—Jesus. He shines in here all day long, and makes everything bright and beautiful to me.”
No wonder that Helen watched Ruth with wistful eyes as, when her hour was ended, she trudged homeward with the heaven-born wish growing in her heart that Ruth’s Saviour might be her Saviour, too. Then she could tell others that the sunshine Jesus gives will make us able to rejoice even in sickness and sorrow, and make a bare, dingy room a happy place.
Dear children, are you happy in Him in the midst of sickness and sorrow? Does He make everything beautiful to you all day long? Or are you still “all in the dark?”
Will you not “pull up the blinds of your soul” and just let Jesus shine in?” If you want light, tell Him so and “Christ shall give thee light.”
ML 09/01/1918