"Who was that quiet-appearing girl that came into church quite late,
last Sabbath?" I asked a friend of mine who was an active member in
the church which I had recently joined.
"Did she wear a striped shawl and a dark dress?" inquired my friend.
"If so, it was Annie Linton, a girl who is a seamstress in Brown's
shop."
"I did not notice her clothes in particular," I answered, "but her
face attracted me; I should know it among a thousand faces. How could
you pass by a stranger so indifferently, Mrs. Greyson? I expected that
you would ask her to remain to Sabbath-school, and go into your
Bible-class, but you did not once look at her."
"I did not once think of it, and if I had, probably she would not have
accepted the invitation, as she is a stranger in town, and undoubtedly
will not remain here long," my friend replied quickly, in the way of
defense.
I said nothing more, for Mrs. G. was really an excellent Christian
woman, with this one fault,--carelessness,--which sometimes caused
her to make grave mistakes.
But I could not help thinking about the stranger girl. Her large dark
eyes and finely formed face revealed more than ordinary intelligence,
and in some way I gained the impression that she was deeply impressed
with religious conviction, if not a Christian already. It seemed to me
that she left the church very reluctantly, and was half waiting an
invitation to the Bible-class.
The next Sabbath she came again and occupied the same seat,--just in
front of my own. She bowed her head very reverently during prayer, and
once during the sermon I saw her lip quiver with emotion, and a tear
came into her eye. The services closed, and the stranger lingered as
before. My friend, good Mrs. G., again forgot to speak to the girl.
She passed out of the church slowly, and did not come again. I thought
she must have left town, as I had not seen her for several days; but
one Sabbath, as I attended another church, I saw her again. She seemed
a little more at ease, I thought, and there was a quiet smile on her
face. After the services were concluded, I saw many a pleasant smile
given to the stranger girl, and I understood the secret of the changed
look upon her face. I made some inquiries, and learned that she had
joined this church, and was earnest and active in all its work. I also
learned that she had made a profession of religion just before coming
to our village, and had an unusually clear experience. How much the
indifference of our own people had to do with her finding a home in
another church, I know not.
Several years have passed since this occurred, but I have never
forgotten it. Many a stranger's hand I have clasped as I thought of
Annie Linton's sweet face. I was young in Christian experience then,
and that lesson was a profitable one to me.
Speak to the stranger, Christian friend, with the assurance that no
evil will grow out of it. It is better sometimes to step over the
rules of etiquette than to chill some warm stream of God's new-given
love by coldness and indifference.