Two Glasses of Milk

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jul 3, 1913

Two Glasses of Milk

(A True Story)

A PROMINENT surgeon was riding one summer day through the country on his bicycle. The road was long and dusty; the afternoon heat was intense. The open gate of a farmstead invited him to turn in. An enticing glimpse of cool, green shade, and of a well-sweep, with a shining dipper hanging near, promised rest and refreshment.

A young woman was sitting on the porch, who arose to meet the doctor as he approached, asking permission to help himself to water at the well.

“Certainly,” she exclaimed, “but shouldn’t you like some milk instead? We have a pitcher of fresh milk on the ice, and I shall be glad if you will have some of that.”

“O, thank you,” replied the doctor, “that would be delightful; but I fear it would impose too much on your kindness. The water will answer as well.”

But with a charming grace the young woman insisted upon bringing the pitcher of milk, and the tired doctor drank two glasses of it and was refreshed. When he had rested and was about to go, he handed the young lady his card and said, “If you ever come to the city and need the advice of a physician, please call me.”

Months passed and the incident was forgotten. About a year later the mother of the little household was very ill. The local doctor, who had attended her for many years, could do no more, and informed her that she must go to the city to a hospital for a serious operation. This was sad news for the little family, whose income was slender. The mother protested that such expense was out of the question, but both father and daughter insisted, and planned between themselves for the sacrifices they would make to meet the cost.

Preparations for the trip were hastily completed. The daughter arranged to go and stay near the hospital at the home of an aunt. While packing her trunk the card of the bicycle traveler was found, and the young lady decided at once that she would hunt him up as soon as she reached the city, before selecting the hospital. She was somewhat awed as she entered the house of the great surgeon, but he set her at ease in a moment and made her happy by remembering her. She explained all that the country doctor had said about her mother, and asked his advice as to which hospital she should select.

“My dear young lady,” said the great-hearted man, as he took her hand, “if you will trust your mother to me, I shall be very happy to do all I can for her. I have my own private sanatorium right here, and will personally attend to your mother. In the morning I will send a carriage for her, and you can come to see her every day. If you have any doubts about the matter, just write your doctor and tell him I have the case.”

The next day her mother was safely established at the sanatorium, and the daughter was assured that everything possible would be done for her comfort. But in the evening there was panic at her aunt’s house.

“My child! what have you done? That man charges the most terrible prices. They say he gets a thousand dollars for one operation, and when he keeps a patient at his own hospital he charges fifty dollars a week for board and nursing. O, dear! you should have asked about this before taking your mother there. Your father can never pay such charges.”

So the frightened girl fled to her room and wept alone in her dismay; but as she remembered the kind face and gentle tones of the great surgeon, she felt that somehow it would come out all right.

The operation was entirely successful, and at length the happy daughter was told that she could take her mother home in two weeks. This would make a total stay of four weeks at the sanatorium, and as she realized what this meant, together with the cost of the operation, which the great man had performed himself, the anxious girl began again to wonder, with fear tugging at her heart, how they would ever be able to pay.

The final day arrived. In the surgeon’s private office were the father, mother, and daughter ready to return to their home. The mother was entirely well, and looked better and happier than she had for years. The father and daughter were happy because of the mother’s splendid recovery, but the daughter could not shake off her worry on account of the bill which the surgeon would soon give them.

“Now, I am so glad you are all right again,” he said, “and I hope your little visit with me has done you good that will last. I have put your bill in this envelope, which I ask you not to open until you get home this evening. Then after you have finished supper, you can take it out and talk it over.”

A little puzzled, but profuse with thanks for giving back health to the beloved mother, the family departed. That evening when the meal was over, the envelope was brought out, and at least one heart beat quickly as the bill was unfolded. Here is the way it read:—

To professional services rendered $..... To service at sanatorium, $..... $.....

Received payment in full, by two glasses of milk given to a weary traveler.

It is only one illustration of the beautiful truth that giving pleasure is getting pleasure; doing good is receiving good. “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”—Christian Herald.