The Harvest Past, The Summer Ended

 •  2 min. read  •  grade level: 7
I HAD just entered on my labors in the hospital at-, when a messenger came saying I was required in ward No.-. It was my first visit. I felt my personal weakness, and in my heart said, "Who is sufficient for these things?" as my eye glanced along a ward where on each side were ranged beds, occupied by pale sufferers, young and old.
I soon discovered the person for whom I was specially sent. She was a young woman in the last stage of consumption. Her mother stood beside her wiping the large drops of sweat from her brow. After a question or two, I knelt to ask divine guidance and blessing upon what might now be said to this helpless one. My words were few, and when I rose to speak her ears were deaf, her eyes were fixed, her heart had ceased to beat, and there lay the lifeless form of the subject of my first visit.
As I stood looking upon that lifeless body, something seemed to whisper, “There is no room for trifling here, be diligent, the night is far spent; see around, all are hastening on to eternity; set before them life and death-the way of escape from the wrath to come."
I could only speak a few words of comfort to that bereaved mother, and then turn to tell of Him who through death conquered death, and by whom all that believe are delivered from its sting.
The person who lay in the next bed heard of that mighty One, His finished work for sinners, of whom she felt herself to be one, trusted all to Him who is able to save, and rejoiced with joy unspeakable.
J.- became exceedingly happy, she gave daily increasing evidences of having passed from death unto life.
During the last few days of her sojourn here, she was heard repeatedly going over that beautiful hymn, commencing-
“Jesus, lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly;
While the raging billows roll-
While the tempest still is high."
And she dwelt with emphasis upon these two lines,
"Other refuge have I none,
Hangs my helpless soul on Thee."
And when she could no longer articulate the words, she loved to hear them repeated. As death drew near, her joy increased; it was manifested in looks and broken sentences, in which the name of the refuge of her soul sounded again and again: and in a few weeks after I had stood at the first bedside, Jenny's departure took place in fullness of joy.
To those who witnessed it, who were chiefly Romanists, it was a matter of wonder. They said they had never witnessed anything like it. I hope it was the beginning of “good things to come" to many of them.
But how many have passed away in such a manner that it pains my memory now to recall those dreadful scenes!