Many years ago a judge lived near the Indians in America. His daughter, who was a widow, lived with him and her little son, who was the pet of the family. Now the judge was very anxious to live on good terms with the Indians, for there were but few white people about them, and the Indians, when provoked, had often set fire to the houses of the settlers, and murdered all who dwelt there. Some of the tribes returned his kindness and gave him their confidence. But there was one old chief of a very powerful tribe who could not be won in any way. At last the judge sent him a message. The answer was that the chief would call at his house next morning. The judge received the old chief very courteously, and tried to be as pleasant as he could. He brought in his daughter, and her little son. Then he began to speak of his wish for peace and friendship. The chief heard what he had to say, and answered — “Brother, you ask much, and you promise much. What pledge can you give of your good faith? The white man’s word may be good to the white man, but it is empty breath to the Indian. Now if you will trust the Indian, the Indian will trust you. Here is this little lad, your daughter’s son. Let him go with me to my camp for three days. At the end of that time I will bring him back with my answer.”
If a sword had pierced the mother, she could not have felt a sharper pain than that which went to her heart. She clasped the boy in her arms and was about to rush from the room with him. The chief frowned darkly and rose to leave too.
“Stay,” cried the judge kindly, as his lip quivered. “The boy is dear to me as he is to you; I would not risk a hair of his head. He must go, God will watch over him. He must go.”
Who can tell the agony of the mother, as she kissed the little boy and made him ready for the journey, and then set him beside the chief, and buried her face in her hands.
The chief did not say a word, but took the wondering child by the hand and led him away.
Three days and nights! It seemed almost as many years to the mother. She tossed sleepless at night, or dozed only to start in her dreams at the cry of her little son calling to her for help. So the heavy hours passed away until the third day came. The morning went, but there was no sign of the chief. And now the sun was setting behind the forest trees. The mother pictured her worst fears as having come upon her boy. The judge went troubled from room to room. At last as the day had nearly closed, the chief appeared, leading the lad dressed as a young chief, with eagle feathers in his hair, and a beaver skin about his shoulders and moccasins on his feet. Looking proud and happy in his strange dress, the little fellow came on toward the house. The mother rushed out with a wild joy and pressed him to her heart.
“Now,” said the old chief, “we can be friends. You have trusted the Indian; the Indian will trust you.”
That was a great deal, a very great deal to do. But all we have ever heard of or thought about falls very, very short of this — “God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” John 3:1616For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. (John 3:16). Think very much about it, dear children. The little boy came back to his dear mother’s arms in peace. But this world killed God’s dear Son and cast Him out. And yet God’s wonderful love is still unchanged. Through the death of His own dear Son, He offers pardon and peace to whosoever will.
ML 11/22/1953