A WISE DECISION.
The lake in front of the Worthington home, though nearly five miles in
length, had too small a harbor to permit the entrance of the large
Chicago boats. It was therefore necessary, each evening in summer, for
small steamboats to gather up the fruit from the farms along the lake
and to carry it to the nearest port for large steamers. It was
interesting to see the piles of berry crates loaded upon the steamer
from the docks extending out into the lake. At such times a crowd of
young people frequently arranged to go for a pleasant ride on Lake
Michigan, and a few times Bessie had gone.
There was to be such an excursion on the occasion of which I wish to
speak, and the young people expected to attend a circus in a city close
to the haven to which they were going. Bessie wished very much to go.
She soon obtained her father's consent, but went to her mother with many
misgivings, for she knew that her mother never went to a circus and that
she had always spoken against her going at other times.
Mrs. Worthington was very busy, but she always had time to advise her
daughter and to hear her requests. She listened carefully to every word
her daughter had to say, and then remained silent for a few minutes. At
length she said: "Bessie, there are many things to consider about your
going. You know how I love to have you go for a ride on the water when I
know you are in good company. I also love to have you attend places of
interest to you, when I know there's nothing to defile your mind or lead
you from the path of purity. But, Daughter, there are many things in the
world that look beautiful to the eye but tend to lead the soul astray.
Do you think Jesus would go to a circus? Do you think you could get any
good should you go? You have passed your tenth birthday. I think you're
old enough to take this matter to God in prayer and let him decide it
for you. Go and ask him to direct you to some passage of Scripture that
will open your understanding and help you to know what he wants you to
do."
"Oh, mama," said Bessie, who had felt strange about the matter, "please
tell me yes or no, and I'll say no more about it."
"No, Bessie; it will, in many ways, be better for you to do as I've
said," answered her mother tenderly but decisively.
Very reluctantly Bessie left the room, and, taking her Bible, whispered
a prayer that she might open it to something that would help her to
decide. As she opened the book, her eyes fell upon these words: "Vanity
of vanities, saith the preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity."
Hurriedly she turned the pages, thinking that she might perhaps have
opened to that passage anyway. Next she read, "I said in mine heart, Go
to now, I will prove thee with mirth; therefore, enjoy pleasure: and
behold this also is vanity." Returning to her mother, she read the
words, but ended by saying, "I might have turned to that anyway."
"Bessie," said Mrs. Worthington, "those words were written by the wisest
man the world has ever known, one who had the privilege of enjoying
every known pleasure under the sun. But when he had tried them all, he
sat down and wrote the words you have just read, and also said, 'All is
vanity and vexation of spirit.' Now you have my view of the subject, and
you have Solomon's; but if you are still in doubt, go and pray."
Bessie was not satisfied. She slipped away the second time and fell upon
her knees. She cried, "O Lord, you once answered Gideon with a sign; now
please give me a sign and help me to know whether I should stay at home
or not. If you don't want me to go, make it rain." Though simple and
short, the prayer came from the heart. She was determined to know God's
will concerning her; and to such God never turns a deaf ear.
The next morning she went to the door and looked at the sky. The day was
perfect. The sun was shining brightly, and a cool, gentle breeze was
blowing. Just one tiny cloud was in the sky, and that seemed to be
floating toward the sun. As she watched the cloud, she saw it gradually
increase in size, and at last down came the rain in great drops. Nothing
further was needed to convince Bessie that God wanted her to remain at
home; and now her staying was no longer a cross to her.
She ran to her father and explained that God did not want her to go,
telling him about her prayer and its answer. Her childish words and
simple faith touched her father's proud heart, but all he said was,
"It's all right, Bessie; but you'll go down to the landing and say
good-by to your friends, won't you?"
As she told the girls why she could not go with them and watched the
gay party leave the shore, she was not sad, but happy. She kept thinking
how kind the dear Lord had been to answer her prayer so wonderfully.
When bedtime came, she rested sweetly, having no wounded conscience to
trouble or accuse her.
But how about the excursion party? They had an ideal trip on Lake
Michigan, attended the show, and started to return. The breeze that had
been so gently blowing through the day began to increase at sunset, and
by the late hour of their return it had become a gale. But not realizing
the fierceness of the storm, they started home. When they reached their
own harbor, they found that they could not enter with safety; so they
anchored the boat and spent the remainder of the night on the wildly
tossing waves. In the morning the wind gradually died away, and the
weary, seasick crowd made their way home.
When Bessie learned of their serious experience, she appreciated more
than ever the Lord's goodness in leading her to stay at home.