On the Wrong Side

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, Cal. · Aug 7, 1884

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 10, No. 30.

On the Wrong Side.

ON a beautiful July evening, as the railway train approached the station, a pleasant-looking group appeared on the platform,—a tall, dark gentleman, with a fair-haired lady on his arm, and several bright, lovely children at their side, all evidently on the outlook for some friend's arrival. The engine hurried past, the carriages followed; the lady held back her youngest child, while her husband and the others hastened forwards.

"There is Aunt May, all right!" said a little boy, clapping his hands, as he looked up into one of the carriages.

Aunt May soon emerged, a short, slight figure, her fair hair and blue eyes showing her relationship to the mother rather than the father of the merry little band who were so eager to welcome her. She was not young, but her bright smile and fair complexion made her appear much younger than her real age; and the children considered her almost one of themselves. She had been only absent at this time on a day's excursion; and, to judge by her welcome back, that had been thought quite long enough.

Her reticule, parasol, etc., having been disposed of among the children, all wishing some share in the good work of "helping Aunt May," the whole party walked homewards to a small but comfortable dwelling, beautifully situated in a Highland valley about a mile from the railway station at L—.

"And you must tell us all your adventures, Aunt May," said the eldest girl.

"I am thankful to say, my dear, I have had no adventures to-day. I found my friends well, and spent a very pleasant day with them, and had a safe journey there and back again."

"Oh, but you must have something to tell us about—something to make a story of," said little Charlie.

"Well, we shall see, after tea; but I must have that in the first place."

Aunt May was believed to possess an unlimited stock of stories, or of the power of "making" them; and her little hearers were insatiable in their demands.

So, when tea was over, she was settled in the large easy-chair, with Charlie on her lap, and the others gathered round her, while the calls for "her adventures" were loudly repeated.

"You can make a story out of anything, Aunt May," said her brother-in-law, as he left the room; "I only wish I had leisure to stay and listen to it."

"Thank you for the compliment; but I am very glad you are to be better employed. Now, children, I really have had no adventures; nothing wonderful happened to me to-day."

"Oh, that was a pity."

"What! would you like me to have been chased by a bull on the road, or my watch taken from me by a robber, or my leg or arm broken in a railway accident?"

"Oh, no, Aunt May. But do tell us about something."

"Well, I shall tell you something which made me think a good deal on my way home; and perhaps it will make you all think a little, and that will be useful. After dinner, when it was time to go, my friend, Miss B—, walked with me to the station. It was a long walk from her lodgings, and the day so hot that we were very tired, and obliged to hurry. We were in time, but not much more; for just as we got on the platform, the engine came puffing along; and Miss B— said to me suddenly, with such a frightened look:—

"Are you sure we are not on the wrong side?"

"Oh, no," I replied; "I took care to inquire and make sure as to that when I first arrived in the morning."

"So she kissed me and said good-bye, and I stepped quietly into the carriage. But when we were on the point of starting, I heard a cry of distress on the other side of the line. I looked out, and saw a woman, whom a railway porter was keeping fast hold of.

"Oh," she cried, "let me go! let me cross! I shall be in time yet! I am on the wrong side!"

"No," said the porter; "you should have crossed at first; it would be too dangerous now."

"And then we started, and I only saw her look of despair, and heard her cry, 'Oh, my baby! what shall I do!'"

"Poor woman! I suppose," said Mary, "she had been visiting friends, like you, and had left a baby at home. What would she do?"

"This is Saturday night; so, if she was too far from home to walk, she would probably be kept till Monday at B—, and her family left in distress all that time. I felt very sorry for her; and then I began to think of my friend's question to myself, 'Are you sure you are not on the wrong side?' I thought if I had made a mistake, how distressed I should have been, and how anxious your papa and mamma would have felt all to-morrow; for it was the last train, and you know there is no telegraph yet to L—. And then I thought, if a mistake in a short day's excursion would have made myself and others so unhappy, oh, what would it be, at the end of life's journey, to find one's self on the wrong side! Do you understand what I mean, Mary?"

Mary was the eldest of the little group. She looked grave as she replied, "Yes, auntie; you mean, when the righteous are separated from the wicked, to find ourselves on the wrong side."

"How dreadful that would be! And always remember, there are just two roads through this life on earth,—one which will end in the place of darkness and despair, and the other leading to that blessed home above, which Jesus calls his Father's house, where those who love and serve him are to be happy forever. And there is a broad line of separation between the two ways. The travelers on the one side, whether they are old or young, are careless about God and heavenly things; they indulge proud, angry, selfish tempers, and speak unkind and untrue words. The travelers on the opposite road are humble, gentle, and holy, with hearts full of love to God and to one another. We all begin life on the wrong side; we are all born into this world sinful creatures, who begin to sin as soon as we can speak or understand. Now, the great question for every one to consider, who is old enough to understand what it means, should be like that of my kind friend to myself, 'Are you sure you are not on the wrong side?' I felt so thankful this evening that I could answer in my heart, Yes; by the goodness and grace of God I do feel sure that I am loving and trusting in Jesus, and seeking to obey his commands, and that he is leading me in the way to Heaven. O my dear children, how happy those are who cross the line early, who have no need to be frightened and hurried at the last, who give their young hearts to the Saviour, and ask him to keep them all their lives walking in the way of his commandments. They will be happy all through the journey; for his ways are ways of pleasantness and peace; and happiest of all at the end, when he shall say to each of them, 'Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.'"—Family Treasury.