One Saturday evening the Brown’s saloon was filled with a noisy throng of boys and men. Suddenly, above the din, a sweet childish voice arose in song, and through the thin partition came the words—
“Take the name of Jesus with you,
Child of sorrow and of woe;
It will joy and comfort give you;
Take it, then, where’er you go.”
“That’s my little daughter, Bessie, singing,” explained the proprietor. “I don’t take stock in such songs, but she has a praying mother.”
“Better hush her up, Brown, she will hurt your business,” whispered a wily-faced man.
There was a momentary hush, and again the child’s voice took up the refrain—
“Take the name of Jesus ever,
As a shield from every snare;
If temptations around you gather,
Breathe that holy name in prayer.”
A young man standing near the bar resolutely set down his glass and left the room.
“What is the matter, Will?” questioned a companion who followed him out.
“Matter enough,” he bluntly answered. “I have a mother who has been praying for me, and I had forgotten all her early instruction till a moment ago, when that song recalled it all.”
“Yet there is still hope, if the song be true. I had a praying mother myself, and God knows I loved her, though I never sought to follow her example.”
The two young men paused just outside the saloon door and gazed at each other in blank despair.
“What is there in the name of Jesus to save?”
As if in answer to the question, the childish voice reached them again—
“Oh! the precious name of Jesus,
How it fills our souls with joy,
While His loving arms receive us,
And His songs our tongues employ.”
The young men started silently down the square together.
“There might be hope for me still, if I could only give up the drink habit,” said Will, as he clutched his hands.
“Yet the song says His name is a shield from every snare. Oh, Will, if that be really true, as I believe it is, we need not despair! My mother used to read about a dying thief who was saved upon the cross, and we haven’t gotten that low yet. Come to my room; there is a Bible in my trunk that mother gave me; we will see for ourselves what it has to say.”
“Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.” “He, every one that thirsteth, come.” “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”
The young men continued to read, with hearts full of hope and courage.
“‘Though your sins be as scarlet.’ That must mean me,” sobbed Will.
“But read on, Will. He says, ‘They shall be as white as snow.’” O the beauty of such truth! The blood of Christ has power to blot out all our sins, and He can preserve us from future evil.
Little Bessie, the saloonkeeper’s daughter, never knew how the Lord used her song, but Will and his young comrade, as they daily passed by the attractive room where choice liquors were displayed, never did so without thanking God that the proprietor had a praying wife, who had early in life instructed her daughter in the things that are of more importance than all things else beside.
ML 08/22/1954