God's Patchwork
'Good-morning to you, little maid.'
Betty and Prince had been straying through the lanes, and had suddenly
come upon the old sexton, who was leaning over his cottage gate smoking
a short clay pipe.
Betty's face dimpled with smiles.
'May I come in and see your little house?' she asked. 'Prince and I
want something to do. Douglas and Molly are lying in a hammock, and
making up stories; and the twins are no company.'
'Come in, come in, my dear, and welcome, but 'tis a lonesome kind o'
home with only me in it; 'twas very different once on a time.'
He led the way up a narrow path through rows of cabbages and sweet
peas, and ushered her into a tiny kitchen, clean, but rather untidy.
Betty looked round with a child's admiring eyes. There were great
shells on the mantelpiece, a stuffed owl on a sideboard, and lots of
other quaint curiosities on some shelves in a recess.
Then she climbed into a big rocking-chair.
'This is lovely,' she said; 'it's almost as good as a rocking-horse, if
you go very fast.'
The old man stood looking at her for a minute; then seated himself on
the low window-seat, and went on smoking. When Betty had swung herself
violently to and fro for some minutes, she asked,--
'Have you been busy digging graves to-day?'
'No; 'tis a fortnight since I had one: the season has bin rare and
healthy.'
'Then what have you been doing?' demanded the child.
'Oh, I don't let the time slip by; there are a many things I turn my
hand to. I digs my taters up, and gardens a bit first thing in the
morning, and I cleans up in my churchyard, and then I cooks a bit o'
dinner, and has a bit o' gossip with my neighbours. I'm a sociable
sort o' chap, though I'm so lonesome. And I has a bit o' reading on
occasions. Are you a-thinkin' any more o' that 'ere tex' that we was
a-argufying on t'other arter-noon?'
Betty nodded.
'I'm always thinking of it,' she said, stopping the motion of the
chair, and looking up at him with grave, earnest eyes.
'Ah, well, so am I! I've had a good bit o' readin', too, 'tis a most
important thing, the Bible be; and I've been giving a good bit o' my
mind to it latterly. 'Twas your calm tone of saying I must be ready to
die, if I'd bin through tribbylation, started me off. I couldn't quite
make out about the washing, and so I've a looked it up. And I've found
out from the old Book that I'm as black a sinner as ever lived on this
'ere blessed earth.'
'How dreadful!' Betty said in an awed, shocked tone; 'and you told me
you were so good! I never knew grown-up people were wicked; I thought
it was only children. What made you find it out?'
'Well, 'twas readin' what we ought to live like, first knocked me down.
I got a-lookin' through them there epistlies, and got awful cast down.
And then I thinks to mysel', p'raps arter all Paul and such like were
too severe, so I went to the gospels, for I've always heerd the gospels
tell of love, and not judgment, but I wasn't comforted by them, not a
bit,--not even when I turned up the sheep chapter that I used for to
learn as a little 'un. It says there, "My sheep hear My voice, and I
know them, and they follow Me." And I says to myself, "Reuben! you've
never a listened to His voice; you've a gone your own way all your life
through, and you ain't a follered Him one day in all the
sixty-and-eight years you've a bin on this 'ere blessed earth!" Well,
I began to think I'd better say that prayer my dear old missis a told
me, "Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow." And then 'twas last
Toosday night about seven o'clock I got the answer.'
The old man paused, took his pipe out of his mouth, and looked up at
the blackened rafters across his little kitchen with a quivering smile
about his lips; whilst Betty, with knitted brows, tried hard to follow
him in what he was saying.
'I was a-turnin' over the leaves of the old Book,' he continued, 'when
I come to a tex' which stared me full in the face, and round it was
pencilled a thick black line, which was the doin' of my missis. I'll
read it for you, little maid.'
He rose, and took from the shelf a large family Bible. Placing it on
the table, he turned over its leaves with a trembling hand; and then
his voice rang out with a solemn triumph in it, '"Come, now, and let us
reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they
shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall
be as wool." My knees began to tremble, for I says to myself, "Reuben,
'tis the Lord's voice to thee." And I drops down on the floor, just
where you're a-sittin', missy, and I says, "Amen, so be it, Lord." I
gets up with a washed soul--washed in the blood of the Lamb.'
There was silence; the old man's attitude, his upward gaze, his solemn
emphasis, awed and puzzled Betty.
'And now you're in the text!' she said at last, somewhat wistfully; as
she drew Prince to her, and lifted him into her lap.
'I shall be one o' these days, for certain sure,' was old Reuben's
reply; 'but 'tis the Lord that will put me there; 'tis His washing that
has done it.'
'That's what Miss Fairfax said; she said it wasn't tribulation would
bring us to heaven. She made me sing,--
"There was no other good enough
To pay the price of sin;
He only could unlock the gate
Of heaven and let us in."
But I'm quite sure God won't mean me to stand in the middle of those
people round the throne, if I haven't been through tribulation; I'm
quite sure He won't! I shall find myself in a mistake if I try to
creep in among them; and, oh! I want to be there, I want to be there!'
Tears were welling up, and Prince wondered why he was clutched hold of
so convulsively by his little mistress. Reuben looked at her, rubbed
his head a little doubtfully, and then straightened himself up with a
sudden resolve.
'Look here, little maid; you just a foller me: I'm a-goin' to the
church.'
Up Betty sprang, her tears were brushed away; and she and Prince danced
along by the side of the old man, her doubts and fears dispersing for
the time.
But Reuben was very silent. He led her into the cool, dark church and
up the side aisle to the tomb of little Violet Russell. There he
stopped, and directed the child's gaze above it to the stained-glass
window.
'Can you read the tex', little maid?'
'Yes,' said Betty brightly; 'why, even Bobby and Billy know that:
"Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not."'
'And that's what the Lord says,' the old man went on; 'did He say the
children were to have tribbylation afore they comed to Him? Why, for
sure not! And if you, little missy, go straight into His arms when you
gets to heaven, you'll be safe enough, and He'll know where to put you.'
Betty's little face beamed all over.
'And He will love me, even if I haven't been through tribulation?'
'Why, for sure He will.'
Betty gave a happy little sigh.
'I tell you what, now,' Reuben added; 'if you're a-wantin' to have
tribbylation made clear to you, I'll take you down to see old
Jenny--praychin' Jenny, she used to be called--for she used to hold
forth in chapel bettern than a parson. And she's bin bedridden these
twelve year; but she can learn anybody about the Bible; she knows tex's
by thousands; there hain't no one can puzzle Jenny over the Bible.'
'Is she very ill?' asked Betty.
'She's just bedridden with rheumatics, that's all; but 'tis quite
enough; and I was calkilatin' only t'other day that I'll have to be
diggin' her grave afore Christmas.'
'Will you take me to see her now?'
'For sure I will.'
Out of the cool church they went, and along the hot, dusty road, till
they reached a low thatched cottage by the wayside. Reuben lifted the
latch of the door, and walked right in.
There was a big screen just inside the door, and a voice asked at
once,--
'Who be there?'
''Tis only Reuben and a little lass that wants to see you.' And Betty
was led round the screen to a big four-post bed with spotlessly clean
hangings and a wonderful patch-work quilt. Lying back on the pillows
was one of the sweetest old women that Betty had ever seen. A close
frilled night-cap surrounded a cheery, withered face--a face that
looked as if nothing would break the placid smile upon it, nothing
would dim the joy and peace shining through the faded blue eyes.
Betty held out her little hand.
'How do you do?' she said; 'this old man has brought me to see you. He
said you would tell me about tribulation.'
'Bless your dear little heart! Lift her up on the foot of the bed,
Reuben. Why, what a bonny little maid! and who may she be?'
'She be lodgin' at Farmer Giles's; and be troubled in her mind
concarning tribbylation.'
The old woman reached over, and laid a wrinkled hand on the soft,
childish one.
'Then tell old Jenny, dearie, what it is.'
Betty was quite ready to do so; and poured forth such a long,
incoherent story that it was very difficult to understand her. Jenny
did not quite take in her perplexity.
'Ay, dearie, most of us has tribbylation in some form or t'other; I
often think, as I lie lookin' at my patchwork quilt, that it be just a
pictur' of our life--a little bit o' brightness and then a patch of
dark; but the dark is jined to the bright, and one never knows just
what the next patch will be. But the One who makes it knows--He's
a-workin' in the pattern, and the black dark bits only serve to show up
the bright that's a-comin'.'
'Ay,' said Reuben, sinking into a chair; 'I mind plenty o' black days
in my life; but I've had a many bright 'uns too--ay, and one white 'un,
and that were last Toosday! It be a fine patch o' white in my quilt,
Jenny!'
'Tribbylation!' said the old woman musingly; 'I mind o' several verses
on it: "In the world ye shall have tribbylation; but be of good cheer:
I have overcome the world." "We must through much tribbylation enter
into the Kingdom of God." "We glory in tribbylation also, knowing that
tribbylation worketh patience." "Who shall separate us from the love
of Christ? shall tribbylation?" Ah, tribbylation is tryin' to the
flesh, but 'tis for the improvin' of the soul!'
'And does everybody have it except children?' asked Betty with a solemn
face.
'I think as how most folks have it in one form or t'other; the saints
get it surely, for "whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth
every son whom He receiveth.'"
'What does "chasteneth" mean?'
'Punish, I take it, dearie, your father and mother punishes you at
times, don't they?'
'No, never; only nurse.'
'Ah, well; and doesn't she desire your good? She don't do it just to
spite you.'
'I s'pose it's for my good,' said Betty doubtfully.
'Tribbylation will allays be a mystery,' went on the old woman,
speaking more to Reuben than the child. 'We must bow our heads and
take it, whether we like it or no; and it's wonderful strange how
differently folks take it! Seems to me, as the Bible puts it, it's
just a fire, and whiles some like wax gets melted and soft by it,
t'others are like the clay, they gets hard and unbendable. I've known
lots o' both those sorts in my time; 'tis only by keeping close to the
Hand that smites that you feels the comfort and healing that goes along
with it. If you keeps a distance off, and lets the devil come
a-sympathisin' and a-groanin' with you, then it's all bitterness
through and through.'
'Ay,' said Reuben, 'me and the devil have oft sat down together over my
troubles; and he do know how to make 'em werry black!'
Betty's round eyes and puzzled gaze at this assertion made Reuben adopt
another tone.
'But here's this little lass, Jenny, a-wantin' to have tribbylation,
for fear she shouldn't be one o' the Lord's people after all.'
The old woman looked across at the child, and then she nodded brightly
at her.
'And you shall have it, dearie; the Lord will send it surely; and when
you're in the midst o't, you mind these words o' the Lord's, "Be thou
faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." It's in
tribbylation our faith fails; we can't see in the dark, and we mistrust
our Guide.'
Betty's face lit up at these words, and she brushed away some
glittering drops from her long lashes.
'You think I shall really have it?' she questioned eagerly.
'Surely you will in some form or t'other, and p'raps before you're a
growed-up woman. I sometimes think little folks' troubles are as big
as the older folks.'
Betty did not hear much more of the conversation that followed. Old
Jenny had done more to comfort and satisfy her than any one else, and
she left the cottage with Reuben, saying,--
'I like Jenny very much, and so does Prince; we will come and see her
again.'