THE WEALTH OF OLD MAN JONES.
By William H. Hamby
[William H. Hamby, in S. S. Times.] “THERE is one thing that I can’t understand,” said my friend with a questioning mind. “What is that, Hanson?” I asked. “About old man Jones, down there at the foot of the hill. If there are any Christians in this country, he is one. He has prayed twice a day for forty years, and proved his faith by his works. He has worked hard, and has been ambitious to lay up something for his family, yet he is exceedingly poor, has always been poor,—often his family lack the bare necessities of life. That little cabin with the rocky patch of ground around it is all he has to show for a life of drudgery. Yet the Bible says that all things work together for the good of those who love the Lord, and to him that asketh it shall be given. How do you explain it?” “Let us go down and talk with him about it,” I replied. The old man warmly welcomed us into his simple cabin, and set chairs for us by the open fireplace, for it was a frosty November day. “I’m glad to see you, Will.” He always called11me Will. “I have been wanting to tell you about a letter I got two weeks ago from Dave. Dave has professed religion, and joined the church.” The old man’s eyes grew bright, but his voice shook a little. “I’ve been praying for that boy for many years, and I knew the Lord would save him.” The light on the face furrowed by care and toil and age was good to see. “I’m perfectly happy now,” he continued. “Mary married a good man, and they have a good home. Sam is preaching the Gospel, and now Dave has chosen that better part. The Lord is wondrous good to His servants, and I can say with David, ‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.’” And he repeated the whole Psalm. “But haven’t you often needed things that you did not get?” inquired my friend. “Oh, yes! certainly, there have been many times in our lives when we did not have all the worldly goods we wanted, but some way we pulled through,” replied the old man cheerfully. “Perhaps it was the result of bad management, perhaps it was best so, but that matters little. The Lord has made us so rich in everything else we do not mind a little poverty.” As we climbed the hill my friend was silent. When we reached the summit we looked back at the little cabin at the foot. “I understand now,” said my friend.