“He laid His hands on every one of them.” An old man, who was blind and crippled, sat at the edge of the icy stone pavement on a cruelly cold day, playing his old hand-organ, while in the other hand he held out a tin cup to receive such gifts as his music and evident poverty might attract. But it was so cold that music had no charms, and the people hurried by. The old man was very cold and discouraged, when an old woman, ragged and poverty-stricken in appearance herself, came out of an alley near by with a huge bundle of sticks and boards on her bent back. Some of the boards were so long that they were dragged on the ground behind her, and it had evidently taken her a long time to tie all the boards and bits of timber together on her back. She came along, bending low under her burden, until she was within a few feet of the old organ-grinder. As she noticed his condition, she paused, a flash of sympathy came to her eyes, and then she untied the rope which bound the bundle to her back, and in a moment the boards were lying on the ground. The old man’s cap had been blown off by the wind. She picked it up, and brushed it, and placed it kindly but firmly on his head, and tied it down with a tattered handkerchief taken from her own neck. “Cold,—hain’t it?” she said. He nodded. “Hain’t gittin’ much to-day?” were her next words. He shook his head again. She fumbled in her pocket till she found a copper, which she dropped into his little cup, hoisted the great bundle on her back, and went on her way. She had done what she could. She had laid her hands on him, and it had brought comfort to his heart. We, too, must follow the example of our Master, and come into personal contact, if we would help the world.