Father and I Don’t Charge by Albert Carey

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Tacoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · May 27, 1915

Father and I Don’t Charge

By Albert Carey

ALBERT CAREY

My child of seven came to me with brush and comb to have his hair arranged one bright morning. “Have you a nickel?” I asked, laughing. “No,” he quickly replied. “You and I don’t charge.”

He well knew he never received any direct pay for his many little services to me, nor I for mine to him. Yet how truly are we each repaid for every act of loving labor for each other, and in far richer treasure than copper or silver or gold.

Is it not thus our Father deals with us? Does he charge for each item of his infinite care, so constantly bestowed that for a single instant we are not forgotten?—No; and should we think of dollars when asked to render some little service to him? Truly we shall receive our reward, but in values as far exceeding the coin of earth as heaven excels earth, and time eternity.

Nor will he forget his care for his children. His providences may lead through paths of affliction and times of distress, but only that we may the more certainly know his keeping power and sense his constant love, not only for ourselves, but for all the lost before whom he calls us constantly to witness for him.