Fayette County herald. [volume] (Washington [Washington Court House], Fayette County, O. [Ohio]) 1860-1???, 1878-11-28
Saved at Last.

A bitter cold Christmas night ina farm
house; father comes home from the barn,
knocks the snow from his shoes, and sits
down by the fire. The mother sits at the
stand knitting. She says to him: s'Do
you remember it is anniversary to-night?''
The father is angered. He never wants
any allusion to the fact that one had gone
away, and the mere suggestion that it was
the anniversary of that sad event made
him quite rough, although the tears ran
down his cheeks. The old house dog that
had played with the wOnderer when she
was child, come up and put his head on
the old mans knee; he roughly repulsed
the dog. He wants nothing to remind
him of the anniversary day.
A cold winter night in city church;
it is Christmas night; they have been
decorating the sanctuary. A lost wander
er of the street. with thin shawl about
her, attracted by the warmth and light,
comes in and sits near the door. The
minister of religion is preaching of Him
who was wounded for our transgressions,
and bruised for our iniquities, aud the
poor soul by the door said:
''Why, that must mean me; mercy for
the chief of sinners; bruised for our in
EQUITIES; wounded for our transgres-
sions.'"
The music that night in the sanctuary
brought back the old hymn which she
used to sing when with father and mother
she worshipped God in the village church,
The service over, the minister went down
the aisle. She said to him:
'Were those words for me? Wounded
for our transgressions.' Was that for
me?'
The man of God understood her not
He knew not how to comfort shipwreck-
ed soul, and he passed on and he passed
out. The poor wanderer followed into
the street.
''What are you doing here, Meg?" said
the police.
"Oh!" she replied, 81 was in to warm
MYSELF; and then the rattling cough
came, and she held to the railing until the
paroxysm was over. She passed on down
the street; falling from exhaustion; re-
covering herself again, until after awhile
she reached the outskirts of the city and
passed on into the country road. 1t seem
ed so familiar, she kept on the road, and
she saw in the distance a light in the win
dow. All! that light had been cleaning
there every night since she went away.
On that country road she passed until
she came to the garden gate. She opened
| it and passed up the path where she played
| in childhood. She came to the steps and
| looked in at the fire on the hearth. Then
she put her fingers to the latch. Oh! if
that door had been locked she would have
perished on the threshold, for she was
near to death. But that door had not been
| locked since the time she went away
She pushed open the door, and cold
and exhausted, she went in and laid down
on the hearth by the fire. The old house
dog grOwled as he saw her enter, but
there was something in the voice he re.
cognized, and he frisked about her until
he almost pushed her down in his joy
In the morning the mother came down
and she saw a bundle of rags on the
| hearth; but when the face was uplifted
she knew it, and it was no more old Meg
of the street. Throwing her arms around
the returned prodigal, she cried, ''Oh
Maggie" The child threw her arms
around her mothers neck, and said:
| sob mother
And while they were embraced rug
| ged form lowered above them. 1t was
the father. The severity all gone out OF
his face, he stopped and took her up ten
derly and carried her to mothers room.
and laid her down on mothers bed, fol
she was dying Then the lost one, look
ing up into her mothers face, said:
Wounded for our transgressions and
bruised for our iniquities!' Mother, dt
you think that means me?''
sob, yes, my darling" said the mother
eff mother is so glad to get you back
don't you think God is glad to get yol
back?''
And there she lay dying, and all theil
dreams and all their prayers were filled
with the words, ''Wounded for our trans
gressions, bruised for our iniquities, ,
until, just before the moment of her de
parture, her face lighted up, showing
the pardon of God had dropped upon he
soul. And there she slept away on The
bosom of pardoning Jesus. So the Lore
took back one woman that the world re
jected.-Rev. T. D. T'dlmadge.