Children's Edition of Touching Incidents and Remarkable Answers to Prayer Part 7

His father seated himself on a box in the disorderly yard and remained quiet for so long a time that Tim at last looked timidly up.

"I am real sorry I broke your jug, Father. I'll never do it again."

"No, I guess you won't," he said, laying a hand on the rough little head as he went away leaving Tim overcome with astonishment that his father had not been angry with him.

Two days after, on the very evening before the picnic, he handed Tim a parcel, telling him to open it.

"New shoes! new shoes!" he shouted. "Oh, Father, did you get a new jug and were they in it?"

"No, my boy, there isn't going to be a new jug. Your mother was right all the time--the things all went into the jug; but you see getting them out is no easy matter so I am going to keep them out after this."

--_New York Observer_

LITTLE JENNIE'S SICKNESS AND DEATH

Little Jennie was eight years old, March 30, 1886. The April following she was taken very sick, and from that time until June 4, she seemed a little suffering angel. Then Jesus, who had so blessedly sustained her during all her sufferings took her to Himself. She would say, when able to talk: "Mama, I do not care what I suffer, G.o.d knows best." When she was very low, we would often see her dear lips moving, and listening, hear her praying. She would finish her prayer and after saying "Amen"

having noticed that we were listening to her, would look up into our faces to see if we wanted anything.

This patience and devotion characterized her whole life. Often, when she was at play with her sister, who was the older by five years, when some little trouble would arise, she would take her sister by the hand and say: "Kitty, let's tell Jesus." Then bowing her little head, she would pour out her whole heart in prayer to G.o.d, with the fervency that is shown by a true Christian.

About three weeks after she was taken ill her little body was paralyzed and drawn all out of shape it seemed. Then in a few days her little limbs were so we could almost straighten them. What suffering she endured all that time, no one knows but those who were with her.

May 25th, which was Tuesday, while suffering terribly, she said: "Mama, play and sing." I took my guitar, and without stopping to think what to sing, began that beautiful song in the Gospel Hymns: "Nearer my home, today, than I have been before." I could praise G.o.d just then, for I was filled with His Spirit. She lay there looking at me with her little blue eyes and trying in her weak voice to help me. At last she seemed soothed by the music. But we knew that Jesus in his infinite love, had quieted her for a time, because we were willing to submit to His will. We had said all the time: "Lord, not my will, but thine."

She rested quite well until about three o'clock in the afternoon; then suddenly she spoke and her voice sounded quite strong. She said: "Oh, Mama see those people, how funny they look! They look like poles." She was lying so that she could look out of the window and as she spoke her eyes seemed to rest on some object there. Then she spoke louder; "OH, MAMMA, COME AND SEE THE LITTLE CHILDREN! I never saw so many in my life."

I sat down on the front of the bed and said: "Jennie, is there any there that you know?"

She looked them over so earnestly, then said: "No, not one." I asked her how they looked. She said: "Mama, every one has a gold crown on its head, and they are all dressed in white." I thought that Jesus was coming for her then. After telling me that there were none that she knew she sank back on the pillows exhausted. But in a few moments she raised up again and said: "Oh, Mama, hear that music! Did you ever hear such grand music?

Now, do not shut the windows tonight, will you?" I told her that I would not.

The next morning she called Kittie into the room and said: "Kittie, I want to tell you what I saw last night." She then proceeded to tell her the same as she had told me the evening before. Then she said: "Now, Kittie, you will forgive me for ever being cross to you won't you?"

Kittie answered, "Little darling, you have never been cross to me. Will you forgive me, sister, for being cross to you?"

"Darling sister," she said, "that is all right."

Thursday night she was paralyzed in her left side so that she had no use of it. Friday all day she lay unconscious, and that night the same.

Sat.u.r.day, about ten o'clock, she commenced to whisper. We could hear her say: "Papa, Mama." We tried to understand her, but at first could not.

She kept whispering plainer, and finally we heard her say: "Take--me-- upstairs. I--want--to--lie--on--my--own--bed--once--more." But of course we could not move her. Suddenly she said aloud: "I am going to die! kiss me quick, Mama."

I bent down and kissed her, and she looked so wretched. I said: "Jennie, you will not have to go alone; Jesus will take you."

She answered: "I know it. I wish that He would come this minute. Kiss me again, Mama."

I did so; then she wished us to sing. Again, without giving one thought, I commenced singing the same words that I sang the Tuesday before. She raised her right hand arm's length, and began to wave it and bow her head. Oh! she was so happy. Then she said: "Play." They brought the guitar, and she continued to wave her little hand, while I played and sang the whole piece. One of her aunts, standing near the bed took hold of her hand to stop it, but it moved just the same; and I said: "Ollie, let go of her hand, that is the Lord's doings." After I finished, she kissed her father, mother, and sister and bade them goodbye; then called four other very dear friends and told them goodbye after kissing them.

She then called for a book and wanted the music teacher, who was present, to play and sing a piece which she dearly loved.

Before she was sick she would have little prayer meetings, and her sweet little face would s.h.i.+ne with happiness. She would say: "Oh, Mama, how the Lord has blessed me."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "They brought the guitar, and she continued to wave her little hand, while I played and sang the whole piece."]

While the dear teacher was playing and singing her favorite she was waving her little hand. We sang three or four other pieces around her bed. We all thought that Jesus would take her then. Oh, what joy! it was heaven below. Jesus was there and the room was filled with glory on account of of His presence. Two of her aunts said that it seemed as though they were in heaven.

She never spoke after that, but would try to make us understand by motioning when she wanted anything. Sometimes it would take us a long time, but she would be so patient. She was ready and waiting. She had peace that the world cannot give, and, praise G.o.d! that the world cannot take away. The dear little one lived until the next Tuesday afternoon, and went to Jesus about three o'clock. That was the time she saw the vision the Tuesday before. Tuesday morning before daylight she tried to tell me something. I said "Sing?" She looked so happy and bowed her head.

I began singing: "I am Jesus' little lamb." She bowed her head again.

In the forenoon she kept looking at her aunts, Ollie and Belle, and pointing up. Oh! it meant so much. It seemed to me that she was saying, that it meant: "Meet me in heaven." Finally she motioned for me to raise the window curtain. I did so and she looked out the window so eagerly, as though she was expecting to see the little children. Then the little blue eyes closed to open no more in this world, but in heaven.

--Mrs. L. Jones.

SHE DIED FOR HIM

[Ill.u.s.tration]

A poor emigrant had gone to Australia to "make his fortune," leaving a wife and little son in England. When he had made some money, he wrote home to his wife: "Come out to me here; I send the money for your pa.s.sage; I want to see you and my boy." The wife took s.h.i.+p as soon as she could, and started for her new home. One night, as they were all asleep there sounded the dreaded cry of "Fire, fire!" Everyone rushed on deck and the boats were soon filled. The last one was just pus.h.i.+ng off then a cry of "there are two more on deck," arose. They were the mother and her son.

Alas! "Only room for one," the sailors shouted. Which was to go? The mother thought of her far away home, her husband looking out lovingly and longingly for his wife. Then she glanced at the boy, clinging frightened to her skirts. She could not let him die. There was no time to lose. Quick! quick! The flames were getting around. s.n.a.t.c.hing the child, she held him to her a moment. "Willie, tell Father I died for you!" Then the boy as lowered into the sailor's willing arms. She died for him.

--Selected.

"I DON'T LOVE YOU NOW, MOTHER"

A great many years ago, I knew a lady who had been sick for two years, as you have seen many a one, all the while slowly dying with consumption.

She had one child--a little boy named Henry.

One afternoon I was sitting by her side and it seemed as if she would cough her life away. Her little boy stood by the post of the bed, his blue eyes filled with tears to see her suffer so. By and by the terrible cough ceased. Henry came and put his arms around his mother's neck, nestled his head in his mother's bosom, and said, "Mother, I do love you; I wish you wasn't sick."

An hour later, the same loving, blue-eyed boy came in all aglow, stamping the snow off his feet.

"Oh, Mother, may I go skating? it is so nice--Ed and Charlie are going."

"Henry," feebly said the mother, "the ice is not hard enough yet."

"But, Mother," very pettishly said the boy, "you are sick all the time-- how do you know?"

"My child, you must obey me," gently said his mother.

"It is too bad," angrily sobbed the boy, who an hour ago had so loved his mother.

"I would not like to have my little boy go," said the mother, looking sadly at the little boy's face, all covered with frowns; "you said you loved me--be good."

"No, I don't love you now, Mother," said the boy, going out and slamming the door.

Again that dreadful coughing came upon her, and _we_ thought no more of the boy. After the coughing had commenced, I noticed tears falling thick upon her pillow, but she sank from exhaustion into a light sleep.