What Is Your Bible to You?
By Hope Ledyard
A LITTLE family incident has made me put this question to different friends. Every mother has a Bible; but what is it to her? to her children? Is that particular copy of God's word associated peculiarly in the children's minds with pleasant twilight talks; or quiet bed-time moments, when mamma, after listening patiently to their complaints or hopes or plans, after telling them "a real sweet story," bends her head over her most precious volume, and the children listen quietly "because mamma loves it so," if for no higher reason? I happened of late to be in a home where a mother lost her Bible. She had hurried her children a little the evening before, and kissed them good-night with her Bible in her hand, going to help tell the poor and destitute of One who "for our sakes became poor." The next morning, as soon as her quiet time had come, that precious half-hour when, beds made and rooms dusted, mamma felt she had a right to feast herself upon the "pure milk of the word," my friend missed her Bible. It was holiday season, and soon every boy and girl was engaged in a search for it. Blossom, after looking about the sitting-room, climbed into her mother's lap and said, consolingly, "Never mind, mamma, it's God's book, and he won't lose it." Diligent search was made, but for three days not a trace could be found of the precious volume. Meanwhile, Will, the oldest boy, brought his Oxford Bible. He looked shamefaced enough as he inwardly contrasted its freshness, though he had had it for five years, with his mother's marked and worn copy. "Here's mine, mother," he said. "I'd be glad if you'd mark it up just as if it were your own." Another child remarked, "It's an awful sad New Year's, for mamma's lost her Bible." I am glad to say the treasure was found at last; but in how many homes would the mislaying, or even loss, of the mother's Bible be such an event? What is your Bible to you? I repeat it, that you may consider the question. Do you know its pages as you know the faces of your children, or your dear ones? Do verses here and there recall how God spoke to you at this or that? Is your whole life, in short, associated with your Bible? But perhaps you will say, "I know this ought to be, but to me the Bible is dull and uninteresting. The beautiful parts are so familiar they have lost their flavor, while many portions are perfectly unintelligible to me." Let me tell you how to regard it differently, so you will love it. Look at it as you do at your offspring—as yours. There are very few people who love all children, but every one is interested in his own. So with your Bible. Read it as a personal message to you from your personal Friend, and it becomes a new book. Suppose, worried and tired, you open its pages to the fourteenth chapter of John, and read, "Let not your heart be troubled," and you hear the message as if spoken to you. You are troubled, and here is a loving Friend who lifts your face up toward Heaven and says, "Believe in me." But you can't believe? Then tell him so; he says, "Come," over and over again. Now will you not try to value your Bible more? Take this gift to the Giver that he may show you how to use it, and your Bible shall be the book of books to you—the great treasure among all your possessions.—Hope Ledyard, in the Congregationalist.