p. 14 | THE GREAT PHYSICIAN by Nina M. Munson

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California, U. S. A. · Nov 11, 1930

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 57, No. 44.

THE GREAT PHYSICIAN

By Nina M. Munson

NINA M. MUNSON

Her sweetheart died in the World War. She was heartbroken. No one could seem to break the spell of sadness that had so changed Elsie's usually happy life into one of seemingly unbroken heaviness of heart and disinterest in life itself. It was so unlike Elsie that all her friends and neighbors were greatly concerned. They made many visits and spoke only cheerful and cheering words to her. But when they began to talk to her, each time she only dropped her head and wept as if her heart would break.

A CHANGE

One day the neighbors saw the old family doctor stop at Elsie's door and disappear inside her home. No one was at home except Elsie. Some shook their heads as they remembered their own experiences on such visits, and watched to catch his expression when he should come out. All afternoon he remained with Elsie. Finally he came out, and drove away.

The next day Elsie was seen out in her garden picking flowers. Her whole being seemed changed—even a song was upon her lips. And so she continued from that time on, seeming suddenly to have been brought out from her gloom into the sunlight once more. All those who saw marveled at the change, but no one was able to find out just what the old doctor had done to bring it about.

Finally, one day about a year later, some one visiting with the old doctor asked what he had done that had wrought so great a change in Elsie. The old doctor looked very thoughtful, then said that he had entered the house and found Elsie—as all her friends always found her—sad and quiet. He began to talk to her; yes, he talked a long time to her. “But,” asked the visitor, “didn't she begin to cry?”

“Yes,” the physician answered, “she did. But I kept on talking. You see, I told her about losing Mary. We had been married only about two months when Mary died.”

He hesitated a moment, then continued: “Elsie was sobbing bitterly by the time I had finished telling her about Mary, and I just put my head down on the table and wept with her.”

SYMPATHY

It was not pills that Elsie needed,—the doctor's pill bag had remained in the corner the entire time of his visit,—nor cheering words, but sympathy. And that was what the physician gave her,—sympathy. He, too, had passed through a similar experience, and could understand her mental suffering. He was a great physician.

But there is a Great Physician who sympathizes with each one of us. He knows our burdens and heartaches and temptations, for He met all these when here on earth. So He puts His hand on ours, bows His head and weeps with us; and we know we have met One who really sympathizes and understands.