A Miraculous Preservation.
By J. H. W.
WHEN the village of White Rock, Mich., was burned, in 1871, the fire came upon them with the speed of a hurricane, and in the evening. Men, women, and children, and the cattle, all fled in terror to the lake, and rushed into the water to save themselves from the flames. About half a mile from the lake-shore, and about thirty rods south of the main road leading west, stood a small house, the residence of a family, a man and wife, and two little girls, the nieces of the wife. When the fire came upon them, they started from the house, each with a little girl. As they passed out of the door, the woman thought of something that she wanted, and stepped back into the house. Thus they became separated. In the darkness, in the wild war of the elements, the scattering fire, and dense smoke, it was impossible for them to find each other. The husband sped on and plunged into the lake to save himself and the child in his charge, hoping that the wife would find her way. But, as the house was not on the road, she became bewildered and lost. Giving up all hope of escape, she sat down by a stump, and as she was a Christian woman, she committed herself to God and resigned herself to her fate. The fire was all around her—was everywhere. Houses, fences, trees, stumps, all were burning. As the country was newly settled, the stumps were very numerous; and, being mostly pine and hemlock, the fitful glare of the blaze, with the dense volumes of smoke, was well calculated to appall the senses. And there, through the tedious hours of that night, made long by its terrors, she sat beside the stump with the child in her arms. Every stump around her was burning. The parched ground itself was on fire. Several times the fire ran in the ground and caught in her clothes, and she put it out by digging up the earth with her hands and smothering it. The fierce winds hurled the fire in every direction, and scattered it almost everywhere. But the stump beside which she sat did not take fire. All around, every object was blackened and charred; the ground was scorched and burned over. The timber-land of pine, hemlock, cedar, black-ash, &c., was originally covered with a light soil, made up largely of moss, so deep that the plow would scarcely touch the heavier soil beneath. After the long drouth this burned like tinder. But there was a bound set round about her stump, and the fire did not touch it. In the morning she was of course able to reach a place of safety. Who will say that this was chance, or accident? It was Divine Providence. “The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them.” The God of Noah, of Abraham, and of Daniel, never changes. “Blessed are all they who put their trust in him.” Samuel was called of God in his childhood. Joseph was guided and saved in his youth. And yet, “little children” are called unto Jesus, and his promise is that they who seek him early shall find him. What child or youth does not want the God of Israel for his friend, that angels may guard him in the time of trouble?