SEVERAL years ago I was traveling on a train in the West. Among the passengers in our car was a young mother traveling alone with her first baby. There was also a well-dressed woman with two children, the older a boy of about twelve years, and the younger a rollicking little chap of four. The latter was so cute, and merry, and restless, that he attracted universal attention.
At noon our train stopped at a station for dinner, and all the passengers left the car except those who had lunch with them.
A few minutes later the conductor came through and ordered us to move to the car forward, as the train was to be broken into sections. After some switching about our train was made up, and the bell began to ring as a signal to the absent passengers.
All at once we were startled by a loud scream, and turned to see the young mother rushing frantically through the car, followed by the conductor and brakeman. She had left her sleeping baby and her luggage in the car we had formerly occupied, and had foolishly gone away to dinner without asking anyone to watch over the child. Consequently, in the hurried change of cars it had been unnoticed, and now car and baby were gone. Our train was held while trainmen and passengers hurried about searching for the lost child.
All of us were much excited—none more so than the little four-year-old boy, who danced about and asked innumerable questions of every one. Finally, standing up in one of the foremost seats of the car, his cheeks flushed, his eyes shining with excitement, in an interval of silence, his clear baby voice floated down the car: “Why don’t they telegraph to Jesus? Why don’t they telegraph to Jesus? That’s what I’d do if that baby was mine.”
Tears started from my eyes at these words of childish wisdom. His faith had turned to the sure Source of help and deliverance; and I do not doubt that many telegrams went up at once from that crowded car.
The baby was found and delivered to its mother, the trainmen returned to their posts, and our journey was resumed. But the seed sown by the wayside by a baby’s hand, had surely sprung up and brought forth fruit in more than one heart.
ML 11/19/1916