The Little Mother’s Hands

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D.C. · Oct 25, 1906

The Little Mother’s Hands

[There is more truth than sentiment, more of fact than fancy, in this touching little story of unselfish service.—Ed.]

THE following story told by Dr. Dawson, in its beauty and simplicity teaches a lesson which it would be well to take to heart:—

“In the course of my ministrations,” said the doctor, “through the slums of London I came upon a sad case, that of a woman, the mother of five children, the eldest of whom was a girl of nine or ten.

“The mother at the time the family first came under my notice was dying of consumption. The father, a hard-working man, was barely able to earn sufficient to supply the meager wants of the family, and they were often in dire straits.

“The bulk of the work devolved on the oldest girl, Mary by name. Never have I seen the title of ‘Little Mother’ more appropriately earned. She not only had the invalid to care for, but the younger children as well, and Mary was often a very tired little girl.

“Mary’s duties soon were lightened to a certain extent by her mother’s death, but made heavier in another by the added responsibility of the little family. The burden of the children and the house was very heavy after the mother had gone. While she lived, Mary had always felt there was some one to direct and guide her, but now she was forced to rely upon herself entirely.

“Mary’s health, none too strong at any time, soon began to fail under the great responsibility which had fallen on her shoulders. The care of the children, the cooking, the washing and ironing, the sweeping and bed making were too much for the little woman’s strength. Day by day she failed, fewer and fewer became the outings which the lusty baby enjoyed. The little fellow soon became too heavy for the thin, weak arms of the ‘little mother,’ and it was but seldom that she could muster courage and energy enough to carry him down the steep stairs, which were his only breathing ground.

“The day came when even the slightest exertion was impossible for poor Mary, and she was forced to depend upon the kind services of neighbors as poor as she was herself. Mary failed rapidly. She was soon confined to her bed, and then I procured the services of one of my ‘helpers’ who took up Mary’s work where the ‘little mother,’ in sheer helplessness, had laid it down.

“On one of my daily visits, as I stood in the doorway, unannounced, I heard the murmur of childish voices. A little friend of Mary’s was sitting with her, and had been laboriously spelling out some verses of the Bible.

“‘O Maggie!’ I heard Mary say, ‘whatever will I say to Jesus when I meet him and he asks me why I did not go to church, and why I did not pray? You know I was so tired, Maggie, so tired, I just couldn’t.’

“‘Never you mind, Mary,’ the other child replied, ‘when you see Jesus, just show him your hands, Mary, and he will understand.’”—Selected.