p. 268 | BESSIE'S LESSON by L. E. Orton

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · May 6, 1889

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 15, No. 17.

BESSIE'S LESSON.

By L. E. Orton

BY L. E. ORTON.

Mrs. Rowe sat knitting by the window of her cozy sitting-room, one day in early spring. Her silvery hair, and the wrinkles on her placid face, showed that her days had been many upon the earth. She was truly a mother in Israel. She did her Master's work because she loved to do it. In filling up her life with kindnesses to others, she had sowed seed that had yielded an abundant harvest of blessings, both temporal and spiritual, in her declining years.

There was always an air of peace and contentment about her, that made her presence sought by many who found, at times, the buffetings of Satan almost beyond endurance. Neither did she wait for opportunities of doing good to come to her, but she visited the distressed and afflicted, scattering the clouds like sunshine after rain.

This afternoon, as the rays of the lowering sun were reddening the leafless branches and swelling buds of the maples in front of her house, her mind was dwelling particularly upon a dear friend, Mrs. Parks—or Bessie, as she familiarly called her—who had, ten years before, come, a bride, to the thriving Western city. An only daughter, she had been sheltered as much as possible, by fond parents, from pain and trials. Being of a sociable, affectionate disposition, she soon found in Mrs. Rowe a congenial nature; and as the acquaintance ripened, the bond of mutual affection strengthened, until at this time Bessie Parks's children addressed the elder woman by the endearing title of "Grandma;" and she was the counselor and confidante of the whole family.

Mr. Parks and his wife had enjoyed much prosperity during the years of their wedded life. He was an industrious, Christian man, and though he had commenced poor, God had rewarded his diligence, and he had been able to keep from debt, and lay by a little for a rainy day. And when the "rainy day" came, it proved to be almost a deluge, in more ways than one. One after another of their three children had been dangerously ill with scarlet fever; then the mother, worn with long watching and anxiety, broke down, and for weeks lay helpless on her bed, from nervous prostration.

With the added expense of nurse and doctors came another misfortune. The cashier of the bank in which their savings were deposited, defaulted, and all but their little home was lost by the bank's failure.

When Bessie was convalescent, her husband came home from his work one evening and said: "Bessie, dear, I have kept from you as long as possible that I have a felon on my right hand. The doctor lanced it to-day, but he says it will be weeks before I am able to work. You know carpenter work requires two sound hands. I am sorry, for we can poorly spare my wages now," and he sighed heavily as he sank into a chair. It seemed to her that God must have forgotten them, when he allowed stroke after stroke to fall upon them. She voiced David's complaint: "Why standest thou afar off, O Lord? why hidest thou thyself in times of trouble?" Suddenly turning to her husband she said, "George, I think the Lord doesn't care to hear us pray any more, for instead of sending relief he permits fresh disaster to come upon us!"

"My dear wife, do not speak so, I beg of you! It sounds like tempting God. I know you have been, and are, greatly tried, but I am sure it is for our good, and that the Saviour will stand by us through it all, if we only trust him."

Then he added, coaxingly, "Put on your wrap, and go for a little walk in this bracing air; it will calm your nerves, and freshen your spirits."

Following her husband's advice, she went out into the street. The robins were tunefully whistling their good-night song in the elms above her head, and there were sounds of busy life all around her, but, immersed in her own gloomy thoughts, she sauntered slowly and listlessly on, till, on looking up, she found herself in front of Mrs. Rowe's gate. Her feet had obeyed the unconscious impulse of her heart, and carried her to her friend.

As she caught sight of Mrs. Rowe, her manner brightened, and the cloud lifted a little from her face as she hastened forward to grasp the hand extended in welcome at the open door.

"O grandma!" said she, "I am so discouraged. I have come to talk with you; for if I do not tell it to someone, I shall go distracted!"

"Poor child," said Mrs. Rowe, giving her a motherly kiss, "come right into my room. I have been thinking of you all the afternoon, and I can give you hearty sympathy if nothing else."

After putting her in the easy-chair, before the open wood fire, she drew another one up near to her, and said, "Now, my dear, relieve your mind, and I will be an attentive listener."

The young matron narrated her troubles, which did not grow smaller, in her mind, by dwelling upon them, and finished by saying:—

"George was dreadfully shocked, because I said the Lord was tired of our prayers, or words to that effect; but I do not see—when he is omnipotent—how he can let us have such trouble, if he loves us at all."

Mrs. Rowe gazed thoughtfully into the fire for a few minutes, and then, turning to her guest, said:—

"Do you know, Bessie, that the comfort I received when thinking of your case to-day came from the thought that you were sure, by these tokens, you were really children of God's love?"

"I fail to see the argument," replied Bessie, "for I do not show my love for Nellie and Walter by whipping them and making them unhappy."

"Perhaps not for pastime, but if you had a certain plan in view for their ultimate good, you would not hesitate to discipline them, if the result could not be reached without it, would you?"

"I do punish them when they need it," said Bessie; "you know I try to have my children lovable and obedient; but if I was all-powerful I would have them so without any pain to them in the process."

"We must not dare to criticise our Maker," said Mrs. Rowe gravely. "We cannot know the mysteries of the infinite mind. But we have a record of his dealings with his beloved servants, anciently, and as it is written for our learning, it is our own loss if we fail to profit by it. There is a promise in the Scriptures to fit every condition in life, and every sad experience of his children. We may break our promises to God, but he never breaks his to us."

"I do not find one for my troubles," said Bessie despondently.

"Then you must read your Bible with dimness of sight," answered Mrs. Rowe, reaching for hers, which lay open on a stand near by. "It is so filled with them that I hardly know which to read first, but I have opened to one directly. Listen.

"When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour."

"That is indeed a comforting promise," said Bessie. "I am afraid I have doubted being the one to whom he speaks comforting things, because I felt I was under his wrath and being punished."

"You remember who is the father of doubts, my dear, as well as the father of lies, do you not? Instilling doubts was his first work in Eden. If God spared neither one of his true prophets of olden time, none of his apostles, and not even his own dear Son, from tribulation, want, and sorrow, do you think we can be truly his children and escape? The Captain of our salvation was made perfect through suffering. Sanctified trouble brings us into kinship with a royal household, for 'whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.'"

"I think," said Bessie humbly, "that I have been listening, in my trial, more to the suggestions of the enemy than to the promises in God's word. I can see now how he has mixed mercy and tender forbearance with the bitter draught, for he has spared my husband and children to me even while I have been harboring such rebellious thoughts towards him; and, worse than that, I have winged those thoughts with words to settle in another's mind."

"Well, dear child, our Father is as forgiving as he is loving. He knows the conflict you have been engaged in. Pray oftener. Go to him first, in doubt or trouble. He will give you heavenly wisdom, which far exceeds the power of your best earthly friend to do,—wisdom to defeat the tempter."

"Satan trembles when he sees The weakest saint upon his knees."

"It seems as if scales had fallen from my eyes," said Bessie, "everything appears so different. I wonder that I have been satisfied to sit in darkness, when the light of God's countenance was ready to shine upon me, if I would only turn my face that way. I must go home now, and I shall start a little praise meeting in my heart, on the way, thanking him for the many good things he has left us, and above all for his tender love, and patience with me."

When she reached home the children bounded out to meet her with bright faces. In their eagerness to tell her some good news, they jumbled their words, but she caught the idea that papa had a visitor who had brought some good to them in some way.

She walked, wonderingly, into the little parlor, and there found Mr. Brown, the chief contractor and builder of the town, engaged in earnest conversation with her husband.

He turned to her, after the usual greetings, and said:—

"I have been making a proposition to Parks, here, and I am glad to say he looks at it favorably. I am unexpectedly called East, on important business, that will detain me for one or two months; and as I have that row of workmen's cottages—for the paper-mill owners—well under way, I must get someone to superintend the work while I am away. I don't know of anyone so likely to give satisfaction as this man," giving a friendly nod toward Mr. Parks.

"Will he be able to fill the position with his sore hand?" asked Bessie.

"Strange as it is, I regard that as the providential part of it," replied Mr. Brown. "If he had been at work, I should have considered it a mean thing to ask him to leave Wiley Brothers; but as he is out of their employ, and can do what I require as well with one hand as two, and at twice the wages they paid him, I don't see why it is not a good chance for both of us. I will make permanent arrangements with him on my return, for I am sure I can trust my interests with him. I have not watched him all these years, to form a false estimate of his character now."

"Thank you for your good opinion; I will try my best to merit it."

"I am certain of that," Mr. Brown replied, as he drew on his gloves to leave. "You will have the use of my horse and carriage the same as I would," and, glancing up at Bessie, he continued, "your wife is looking so frail, you better make it convenient to take her with you as often as possible when driving about. Come up in the morning and look over the plans and specifications with me, and get some last instructions, for I must leave in the afternoon. Good-night."

After Mr. Brown went out, Bessie gave one glance at the moved face of her husband, and, without stopping to congratulate him, she hurried to her room, and, kneeling down, she besought, with streaming eyes, her heavenly Father's forgiveness for all her murmuring and doubts of his watchful love for his children.