A FATHER'S LOVE | AdventAI

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Jun 14, 1905

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 31, No. 24.

A FATHER'S LOVE.

MUCH is said and written in glorification of mother-love. Father-love is less in evidence, but one little girl's opinion of it appears in the following story:

A young rector was in charge of a large church in the west end of London. His wife died, leaving a motherless child. The people hoped that some aunt, sister, or niece would come to look after the child, but none such appeared.

Gradually it came to be known in the parish that their scholarly and eloquent rector was as much at home amid the mysteries of the nursery, the warming of a child's mug of milk, the washing of "baby's" face, etc., as he was familiar with the mazes of theology and the changing phases of Biblical questions.

Four years slipped by, and one Sunday, when the church was adorned with wreaths and lilies of sweet perfume, the child was placed, as usual, in the corner of a front pew, and the service went on until the sermon began.

He spoke of the agony of the mother of Christ at the cross, her wonder at the news of the resurrection; and from this he turned to tell of the sadness and misery of those who feel the mother-want in this world.

The face of his motherless child inspired unusual earnestness as he pictured that wonderful mother-love.

In conclusion he said: "Think what a child's life is without a mother's love! Who can tend, who cherish, who can love—who—but a mother?"

And in the depth of his feeling the rector's strong voice halted, as if for an answer.

In the hush of the great congregation a little voice spoke out very sweetly from that front pew:

"A faver [father] would do ev'y bit as well, papa dear!"

The rector closed the service somewhat abruptly, his voice trembling as he gave the benediction.

The little child ran into the vestry, and the rector clasped her to his heart, as the little one, in a half-frightened tone, asked: "You aren't angry wif me, are you, papa dear? I forgot ev'ybody was a-lis'ning.—Cleveland Plain-Dealer.