The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 18??-1935, 1901-05-03


House Friday ev ming, is no less
writer than a speaker, az the follow
ing little story will testify:
Not fine work of art; the keen
critic would have pronounced 1t a
daub. 1t did not cost much money
and the frame was of plain, uncarv-
ed wood. But the picture told a
story and told it we'll.
For the background a rough stone
wall, above 1t n leaden sky; in the
foreground pale, sad. eyed, weary
looking girl had fallen on a stone
bench and in her arms she held II
sick boy, white band around his
forehead lust above the sunken,
faded eyes. And just in front OF
them The Christ stood, the patient,
ever-suffering, ever loving Christ,
and His hand, not yet pierced, rest
ed upon the head of the sick boy,
and His eyes, so tender, 80 loving,
so true, caught the upturned eyes OF
the lad and in the faded eyes Of the
boy the light was beginning to come
back.
The picture hung in hospital on
the dead, bare, whitewashed walls.
And on bed right opposite the pic
ture, tossing in fever, wild with de-
! lirium, was a wolf-reared boy of the
slums. Born of rum cursed parents,
nursed at rum scented breast and
tossed in the nervous arms Of a
drunken mother, the boy was born
to the heritage of woe. He knew
/ 4, 3 Anf "A EA
meant, he knew the cold man. well
enough to keep out of his way, he
carried marks of his brutal beatingS
on his face, and when the fever
came, the blne. coated policeman
found him alone in the straw on the
damp floor of his cellar.
They brought him here and hands
soft and delicate ministered to him,
while the white. souled nurse trem-
bled with fear at his fearful oaths.
He grew better, the doctor said he
would pull through.
One morning when the nurse came,
aid pulling up the blind let the light
fall upon his face, she said:
"Sball | read to your"
NO" said the boy, and his eyes
sought the picture. mo, tell me
about that picture; who is hep"
He Is The Christ" she said, and
with a prayer in her heart she TO d
the story of His life to the boy, al d
as she closed she said, do you
lieve in Him?"
II believe in you" said the boy,
and the next morning he said to the
nurse, "tell me more about Him.
How glad the sad-eyed nurse was
to tell him. Her life had been one
of trial, but now she was anchored
in haven of rest, and The Christs
voice had brought a calm to the
troubled water of her life.
AS she told the old, old story, the
boy said:
You know Him, don't your"
Yes" she said, "thank God |
do"
And He loves boys?"
"He loves everybody"
Rough boys like me?'
Every body"
And so, day by day, she talked of
Him, and at last there came time
when she said again:
"Do you believe in Him?"
And he said II believe"
And two faces bathed in tears
were lifted up to the picture.
The boy went from the hospital
carrying next to his heart a small
Bible, and in his heart The Christ.
As the years rolled on the nurse
thought often of the boy, but she
was shut out from the world and her
hours were all long hours, so she
heard nothing of him, but when,
gray haired and bent with age, she
finally fell in the harness, they
brought her, at her request, and
placed her on the bed opposite the
picture The Christ and the child
She was fading away as a cloud al
sunset is kissed INV the dying sun
into the glory of heaven. Her eyes
often rested upon the picture and
her pale hands were lifted toward it,
so many came to see her; old men
and women sine had nursed back &c
life, children who loved her because
her love had stood between them
and dt attn, the white capped nurses
crowded around her, for her life had
blessed them.
) The gray light of a new. born day
stole through the window; all was
still in that quiet ward; around the
: bed, dewy-eyed IS oOd the nurses, fol
she was dy ing. A young clergyman
from the next ward had been calleC
in. He looked upon the face on the
pillow, then his ey es sought the pic
ture, then as he fell upon his knees