Uncle Norman’s Story

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Aug 5, 1913

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 40, No. 30.

Uncle Norman’s Story

(Celia Sanford, in “Herald of Life”)

It had been one of those days of rare loveliness in late autumn, not Indian summer, but almost akin to it in beauty. All day long my cousins and I had been wandering in the woods, gathering pine and hemlock cones, mosses and lichens, and bright autumn leaves, and had returned at nightfall richly laden with treasures and thoroly tired out. We were recounting, with animated voices, the day's adventures to my aunt, who always listened to our recitals, and entered into our little plans for happiness, with a zest which showed that her heart had not grown old, tho here and there a silver line might be traced in the dark brown waves that rested so peacefully upon her forehead, when Uncle Norman came in from the barn, swinging his lantern.

"Why are you not out-of-doors, girls?" he asked. "Aurora borealis is holding a grand parade and exhibiting her most brilliant colors to-night."

In a moment we were out upon the broad veranda, and, sure enough, the whole heavens were in one blaze of glory. A royal rainbow arch of deepest red spanned the whole southern portion of the vaulted sky, while in the north, broad columns of light, of ever-varying tint, and assuming the most fantastic shapes, shot up to the zenith.

For a time we gazed in silent awe and admiration upon the sublimity and grandeur of the scene, and then a chorus of voices simultaneously exclaimed, "How grand! How charming! How very, very beautiful!"

"It is, indeed, a grand sight. It is many years since I have seen such a magnificent display of northern lights," said Uncle Norman, who had been standing unobserved beside us. "Many have been the nights, Maggie, that your mother and I have stood out under the star-spangled heavens, gazing with ecstasy upon their lofty heights, and wishing that we knew more of the hand which created them, and holds them in their places. But that was when I was a child, and now I am old, but my eye has not grown dim, neither is my heart closed to the rich scenery of nature. The beautiful things which God has made and scattered all about us, have power to stir my heart to its lowest depths, and call forth emotions of adoration to the beneficent Giver. But this evening reminds me of an evening long ago, the thoughts of which always awaken tender and glad emotions," he said, musingly, and with a soft cadence in his voice, as tho some far-off sweet remembrances hovered around and nestled down into his heart like a flock of singing birds.

"Tell us about it, please," we entreated; and seated in his favorite armchair, he began:

"I was just a month past my thirteenth birthday, and Brother Tom was two years older. It was in the latter part of the month of December. I remember the snow was a foot deep, and we had been riding down a steep hill back of the house on our hand sleds for two hours or more. It was a merry party. There were Joseph and Archie Bently, and my two cousins, Sam and Fred Rivers, and several other boys. We were full of fun and had noticed nothing unusual till Cousin Sam exclaimed, 'See here, boys; what does this mean?' and, looking round, we saw the snow covered with a deep red tinge, resembling blood. Some of the boys were frightened, but Brother Tom, who was always a resolute, stout-hearted boy, said, 'It is the northern lights;' and, looking up, a scene in the heavens presented itself like that we have witnessed to-night, only, perhaps, more marked and striking."

"I knew it was as light as day, but I thought it was the moon," said Tom. "I am sure I never saw anything half so beautiful before."

"Beautiful! Then it strikes you different from what it does me," said Cousin Fred. "I've seen the northern lights often enough, but I never saw anything like this before. It fills me with a sort of dread, as if something terrible was about to happen. I don't believe it is the northern lights."

"What else can it be?" asked Tom, who never in his life knew a fear. "It is certainly the grandest sight I ever saw; and if you will go down to the house with me, father will explain the phenomenon to be the result of natural causes."

"So we went to the house and found father and mother standing without, gazing with rapt delight upon the wonderful illumination. Finally we went in, and Tom told father what we had come for. He smiled, and was just going to begin an explanation, when there came a hurried knock at the door, and little Johnnie Stannard came bursting in, looking terribly frightened, as he exclaimed:

"Mrs. Bradford, mother wants you to come over to our house right away. She is afraid the judgment-day is coming, and she isn't prepared. Do, please, be quick; she is taking on dreadfully. Will you come, Mrs. Bradford?"

"Yes, tell your mother that I'll be over directly."

"O, mother!" exclaimed Tom, impetuously, as soon as the door closed behind Johnnie, "I wonder if she really thinks that you could postpone the judgment-day supposing it had come. It is really too bad for you to go over there in the cold, just to humor that superstitious woman's whims. If I had lived in the world as long as she has, I think I should know better than to be frightened to death at such a common occurrence."

"The present illumination can hardly be called common. I do not remember to have seen anything approaching to it in grandeur but once in my life before," said my mother, gently, and with just a shadow of reproof in her tones. By this time she was cloaked and hooded for her walk, and I was standing, hat in hand, beside her.

"O, if Norman isn't going, too! That is rich," said Tom, with a scornful little laugh.

"Do you suppose I would allow mother to go alone?" I answered, indignantly; "that is, if she will accept my company," I added, as I looked proudly up into her face.

"I shall be most happy to do so," she answered, with one of her sweetest smiles, as she took my proffered arm.

"When we were out again under the blazing canopy of heaven, a sickening sense of awe came over me. I had not Brother Tom's bravery, and the present display in the heavens above me seemed to my excited mind but little short of the miraculous."

"We were soon at Mrs. Stannard's, and the sight of her distress made me forget, for the time, everything else. Some time elapsed before my mother succeeded in quieting the poor woman's fears, but at last she seemed satisfied, and almost overwhelmed mother with thanks for her kindness in coming to her."

"If my poor husband had been alive," she said, "I should not have given way to my fears, and made you so much trouble. He was a good Christian, and often tried to persuade me to become one, and now, when I imagined that danger was near, I could not help being frightened, for I knew that I was not prepared."

"I remember that mother tried to point the poor woman to the Saviour as a refuge from all her fears; but the way seemed dark and gloomy to me, and I could not understand it. As soon as we had set out upon our homeward walk, I asked, 'Mother, does any one know when the last day will come?'"

"No, my son," she replied.

"But might it not come at any time?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Then I do not wonder that Mrs. Stannard was alarmed. Do you think, mother," I added, after a pause, "that you would have been so frightened, had you known that the last day had really come?"

"I do not think I should," she answered. "I have stood face to face with a great danger. You remember when I was returning from my visit to your uncle's, last summer, that the steamboat took fire, and it was not till all hope seemed cut off, and several were suffocated with the heat, that I was transferred to the vessel that had come to our rescue; but through all that dreadful scene, my mind was kept in perfect peace. I expected every moment to be enveloped in the flames, but these sweet words kept revolving over and over in my mind: 'See the Lord, thy Keeper, stand Omnipotently near; Lo! He holds thee by thy hand, And banishes thy fear; Shadows with His wings thy head; Guards from all impending harm; Round thee and beneath are spread The everlasting arms.' and I was sweetly kept from all fear. I have never been able to narrate the circumstance with half the composure which I possessed at the time. I often praise God for the incident, for I never before knew what a strong anchor the Christian's hope is."

"I held my breath hard while she was speaking, for a great sob was trying to escape me; and when I had composed myself so that I dared to trust my voice, I said, softly: 'O, mother! I wish I could feel so. I wish I had this hope, for do you know I was afraid to-night? I am always afraid when there is any danger. If the Lord should come, I am afraid I should be lost. O, what shall I do?' I had not meant to commit myself so far, but my agitation had increased every moment while I was speaking. I felt the hand tremble that rested on my arm, and an earnest, tremulous voice answered out of the stillness: 'Thank God! thank God! that He has shown my dear boy his danger.'"

"We were at the door, now, and it was a relief to find that the boys had withdrawn, and the family had retired; for I was in no mood to meet Brother Tom's lively sallies of wit; the arrow had entered too deeply my soul."

"When mother had laid aside her things, and stirred up the fire, she invited me to sit down beside her; and O, how sweetly she talked to me of a Saviour's love and compassion, and of His willingness to receive sinners, even the worst and most hardened! She told me of the love that prompted Him to take upon Himself our nature, to live, to labor, to suffer want and hunger, persecutions and threatenings; and how He wept over and prayed for His enemies, and spent His life in doing them good. She spoke of His dreadful agony in the garden, His arraignment and mock trial, His scourging and painful sufferings upon the cross, and how He willingly and patiently suffered all this, and more than human tongue can tell, that sinners might live; and that all He asks in return for this great love is that we give Him our hearts; turn away from a life of sin, and keep His holy commandments. She told me of His brief rest in the sepulcher of Joseph, of His resurrection and glorious ascension, and how He ever lives at the right hand of the Father to make intercession for us."

"I had often heard this story from her lips, but had never before taken in its meaning; and as she proceeded with tender earnestness, and with choked utterance, to portray in living colors the wonderful love of the world's Redeemer, a cry of anguish

came welling up from the depths of my heart, that I had ever grieved this Saviour; that I had never learned to love Him; and when she bade me kneel beside her while she craved for me His forgiveness, I obeyed, nestling close to her side, with my hand in hers, just as I used to do when, a little child, she taught me to say, 'Our Father which art in heaven,' and 'Now I lay me.' And O, the sweet peace that took possession of my soul while she prayed! I have never yet found words to express it. But, my dear girls, in that precious, ever to be remembered hour, my young heart surrendered itself a willing captive to the love of Jesus; and when we arose from our knees, I clasped my mother's hand in mine, and covering it with tears and kisses, exclaimed, with all the joy of a newborn soul, 'The precious Saviour, how I love Him!'"

"My dear mother held me closely to her bosom for a few moments, while the glad tears fell upon my upturned brow like showers of summer rain; and then we carried the glad tidings to my father's room. O, there were rejoicings that night in that humble Christian home! and, I am persuaded, 'joy among the angels in heaven,' over a sinner saved by grace."

"Brother Tom, tho he looked incredulous at first, made no disparaging remarks, as I had supposed he would; and a few months only had elapsed before the dear boy had himself learned to trust in Jesus for salvation."

"That was many years ago," uncle continued, after a few moments' pause, "and I was very young then; too young, some would tell us, to become a Christian; but my experience has taught me that a child may, by faith and prayer, find the blessing, aye, and retain it, too; for in all these years I have found in my heart no disposition to turn away from the Saviour."

We had been deeply interested in my uncle's story, and when it was finished we all sat without speaking, till uncle broke the silence by asking, "Has my story been too sober for you, girls?"

"Father has been telling us his Christian experience," said Ellen, the eldest of my cousins, herself a Christian, "and I'm sure it is far more rich and beautiful than any story he could have told us."

Her voice trembled a little, and her eyes were filled with unshed tears, as I looked up wonderingly into her face, for at that time I did not understand the "mystery of godliness," tho I had been deeply touched by the story; and, years afterward, when I had learned to love the Saviour, and to claim my right in the redemption which He had died to purchase, I traced my first permanent religious impressions to that pleasant evening and Uncle Norman's story.