p. 14 | THE GIRL IN THE CAR

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Jul 12, 1905

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 31, No. 28.

THE GIRL IN THE CAR.

ONE hot day in July I was traveling through a mountainous district of Pennsylvania. The car was crowded, and the passengers were beginning to feel tired and cross, and were looking forward impatiently to their journey's end.

Two stout, red-faced gentlemen gave uneasy and irritated glances over their magazine leaves toward a poor little woman who had a restless, fretful baby in her arms, vainly trying to keep it quiet. Some young women in the rear said something about the folly of bringing crying babies on trains to annoy others. The rest were stolidly indifferent or contemptuously silent.

Just then our train swept into the station at E—, and as it pulled up, out of the midst of a merry group of friends who had evidently come to wish her a prosperous journey, a bright-faced girl got on the train. There were two seats vacant, but without a moment's hesitation the young girl came and sat by the poor woman with the troublesome baby.

It was wonderful how the advent of this girl changed in a moment the whole atmosphere of the car. Her happy face was like a ray of sunshine, as she gave a bright glance around, and then turned and held out her hands to the baby. For a moment

its round, wondering eyes looked questioningly into the new face, then, with a radiant smile, it reached out its little arms to her in perfect confidence. She took it from its bewildered mother, and gathered it with a happy little laugh into her arms.

All through the next two-hours' ride while the dust flew and the heat was stifling, little Miss Cheer-ful, as I mentally named her, and the baby had a good time. It was astonishing how interesting that "cross" baby had become, and what attractions it developed under its nurse's skilful handling. Even the grim conductor, who had eyed the forlorn mother and restless child sourly, now looked benevolently on the merry group.

The poor wearied little mother laid her wan face back on the cushion and was soon asleep, confident that her little one was in good hands. When at her journey's end she woke with a rested, happy look, she said to her kind young friend: "You don't know how much good your kindness has done me. I have been traveling three days, and have had no sleep for two nights. God bless you, dear!"

And she passed out into the crowd with a smiling face, while her baby waved its tiny hand to the dear young girl.

We all felt ashamed of ourselves, and had a lesson in unselfishness which will not soon be forgotten by at least one of those who were traveling that sultry day.

I learned afterward that our bright fellow traveler was the daughter of one of Pennsylvania's richest coal kings, whose home of wealth had not made her selfish, nor made her look down upon those whose lot was hard and uninteresting. Besides, I learned, too, that she is a follower of Him who said, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me."—The Classmate.