Chapter 4. Part 2. An Unexpected Meeting.
While the boy was yet telling her, the old lady got a woolen blanket out of her closet and began to strip the poor lad of his wet clothes. She looked at him so pitifully and lovingly, that the tears came again to William’s eyes.
“Why do you cry, my boy?” she asked him.
“Because you are so kind and loving toward me, and I am so thankful God has led me to you. Alas, I was afraid I would never see a man again. I was alone and so afraid of the wolves.”
“Dry your tears, my child,” said the old lady with much feeling; “you are now in safety, and the bad wolves cannot harm you.” With that she kissed him several times on his pale cheeks.
After putting the clothes up to dry and rubbing William’s body thoroughly, she wrapped him in a woolen blanket and laid him in her bed. Then she placed a pan of milk on the fire and gave him some, feeding him herself, because his arms were wrapped up in the blanket.
William relished the warm milk very much and soon felt his blood circulate again. Being satisfied, he fell back into his pillows. but said:
“I can’t go to sleep until I have thanked the Lord for His gracious care and protection, and until I have kissed you, dear lady. This I have been doing since my father was sick, and you are just as kind and loving as my father has been to me.”
“But haven’t you a father anymore?” inquired the kind lady.
“Ah, no!” answered William with a deep sigh; “he died a few days ago. I still have five brothers, but they do not love me. When father was dead—he died in the night, while I fell asleep on a chair, close to his bed—they buried him close to our cabin and took me with them on a donkey into the forest. Two days we marched till we came to a place where four paths met. Last night, while I slept, they left me, and have probably gone home again. When I awoke this morning I did not know what to do. Then I asked the Lord Jesus to help me; He has helped me and has brought me here. O, if I only could stay here; it is so nice here, much nicer than in our cabin, at the other side of the forest.”
“Yes, you shall stay here my child,” she replied, very much touched; “I am all alone and have often desired to have somebody with me. Since my son has left me I have always been alone; and now I am an old woman, and have nobody in this world. Yes, stay with me, my boy; we will work together and thank the Lord together for His kindness. You must love the Lord very much since you know how gladly He answers the prayers of the young. Don’t you?”
“Yes, I love Him; my father has told me much about Him, how he came from heaven to die for sinners; and how he loved little children so much and pressed them to His bosom. O, it was so nice when father told me such lovely stories, like that of Moses in the little ark, or of Abraham and Isaac, or David and Solomon. He said that all this was in a large book that is called the Bible. We had no Bible, but he said his mother had owned a Bible and had often told him all these nice stories, when he was young. But that was many years ago, and for a long time he had not thought of them and did not care for them. My brothers, too, did not care for them and laughed and mocked when father spoke to them of the Lord Jesus.”
The little narrator paused, because his eyes became heavy with sleep. But the old lady, whose curiosity had been excited, desired to know more. She had followed the boy’s talk with the closest attention and begged him now: “Tell me a little more about your father, my lad.”
William told in his child-like and true-hearted manner, all that had happened in the last months and weeks before his father’s death. He did not neglect to tell what his father had said about his young years, what a naughty boy he had been and how he had run away from his God-fearing mother, a widow. He told further with clearness—for it had made a deep impression on him—how thoroughly his father repented of the sins of his youth and how he had longed to see his mother once more before his death, and to ask her forgiveness, and how he had become so happy through faith in the Lord Jesus and had, in peace, gone home.
While William spoke the eyes of the old lady opened more and more and bending over him, she listened to the tale of the little one. When he had finished, she began to tremble violently, so she sat down on the edge of the bed to keep from falling. Was it possible that William’s father ... ?
Ah, she feared to finish the thought. Her son, too, had left her many years ago in disobedience and stubbornness, and she never had heard a word from him again. For several minutes she was not able to speak a word; and only the heavy sobs, rising from time to time, gave evidence of the inward feelings. William noticed the terrible excitement of the old lady, but did not know what to think of it. At last she asked with trembling voice:
“What was your father’s name?”
“Robert Hartmann,” replied the boy.
“Gracious God,” she cried, lifting her eyes heavenward and folding her hands tightly together; “is it possible? O, how wonderful! Thy ways are past finding out! Robert Hartmann was my son, my only son! And he died as you have said? O, then my prayers are answered. God be praised! My son has not died in his sins, but come to himself and returned, like the lost son to the father’s house.”
ML 07/11/1909