Lucy Lee laid her head on her pillow and, looking through the silence and
darkness, smiled up to God. She had won her first soul for Him, and now
made her offering. The capture was not a drunkard, nor an outcast--many
of whom, in years to come, she was to wrestle over and deliver--but her
own sister, whose golden hair lay over the pillow beside her, and whose
regular breathing told that she was fast asleep. Nothing did Lucy imagine
of the blessing to thousands of souls that was to flow from that night's
work. She was happy in the consciousness that she had been faithful to
the heavenly vision, and that now she and her sister were one in the
experience of Salvation.
How Lucy loved her! Her mind ran back over the thirteen years since a
baby sister came into her life. She remembered the rapture she felt, when
sitting upon her mother's bed, the nurse placed the baby in her arms. She
was five years old then, and soon her small arms ached and her legs were
cramped, but again and again she pleaded to hold her treasure just a
little longer. She had been allowed to name the baby, and had called her
Kate. What a frail, sweet little child she had grown!
When Kate was six years old their father died. Lucy recalled moving from
their nice house in Hornsey Rise--a suburb of nearer London--to a
smaller home; her start at business; and then, the great event that
changed the course of life for both the girls.
One Sunday evening, after her mother and Kate had gone to chapel, Lucy
had been keeping her brother company in the front room, when a burst of
song in the street drew her to the window, and she saw a small procession
of about twenty people go singing down the road, the leader waving an
umbrella. Not staying to consider, she put on her hat and followed the
march. It turned into a hall, which was already full of people, but Lucy
slipped in at the back and stood. The meeting began with 'There is a
Fountain filled with Blood.' The girl was fascinated with the message
given in song and testimony, until, suddenly remembering that her mother
would have returned home and be anxious at her absence, she hurried away.
During the following week her mind was full of the strange
street-singers. She made inquiries about them, and heard that they were
Salvationists; 'good people, but very queer.' In her heart, the words--
I do believe, I will believe
That Jesus died for me;
That on the cross He shed His Blood,
From sin to set me free!
sang themselves over and over and over again.
The following Sunday evening she heard the singing in another street, and
straightway started for the Salvationists' hall, arriving in time to get
a front seat. The message proclaimed the Sunday before rang out again:
'All have sinned; for all Jesus died, and through Him there is salvation
for every one who repents of sin and believes on Him.' To Lucy Lee it
seemed that she was the only one to whom the message was directed; and,
hearing the invitation for any who wished to find salvation to come
forward and kneel at the penitent-form, she at once responded. Very soon
her eager, seeking heart found the Saviour, and she hastened home to tell
her mother the good news. Mrs. Lee had suffered many sorrows, and Lucy,
although only in her teens, was a comfort who had never failed her. She
was not pleased that her daughter was inclined to follow such extremists
as the Salvationists evidently were; but when the girl said, 'Mother,
they are thoroughly good, sincere people, you need have no fear of my
going amongst them,' Mrs. Lee became reassured that all was well, and
unwilling to raise needless contentions, held her peace.
After a while Lucy begged permission of her mother that Kate might
accompany her to a Sunday night meeting. Gaining her wish, the occasion
proved to be something of an undertaking. The work was prospering,
converts were increasing in numbers at the corps, and the roughs were
moved to boisterous opposition. Kate was bewildered by the enthusiasm of
the Salvationists, and the wild ways of the roughs, whilst Lucy was
terrified for the white ribbon on her sister's hat. This must be screened
at all costs, for if the little mother had received any hint of
mud-throwing and pushing, Kate would have paid her last visit to The Army,
and Lucy was praying for her salvation. So, like a mother hen with wings
outstretched, Lucy screened Kate's hat with her arms and took her home in
good order, though a little frightened and not over anxious to go to The
Salvation Army again.
Lucy soon became a valiant soldier. Her religion was real. She not only
believed; she felt deeply, and longed to witness for God. When called to
the front to sing, she generally chose the song,
I have given up all for Jesus,
This vain world is naught to me,
All its pleasures are forgotten
In remembering Calvary.
Though my friends despise, forsake me,
And on me the world looks cold,
I've a Friend who will stand by me
When the Pearly Gates unfold.
Life's morn will soon be waning,
And the evening bells will toll;
But my heart will know no sadness
When the Pearly Gates unfold.
Over and over again she sang this song, with the tears running down her
face. It always carried a message to souls. As she became braver she
spoke to the girls who came forward to the penitent-form.
Lucy longed to know that her own little sister was saved; but somehow,
when she left the hall, courage to speak of spiritual matters forsook
her. Six months passed away, and she had not spoken to Kate about her
soul. At home, she endeavoured to live for Jesus; she sang Army songs
whenever she was in the house; but to speak to her dear ones about their
souls seemed impossible. She had 'lock-jaw' at the very thought. The
Saviour's face had seemed every day to shine upon Lucy; but now a cloud
was coming between, and she knew the reason.
One evening, Mrs. Lee having some business which took her from home, the
sisters were left alone. 'Lord, this is my chance; help me to make the
most of it,' Lucy prayed. The gas was lit, the fire cosy, and Lucy went
to the piano and began to play and sing. She chose all the solemn,
convicting songs she could think of, such as--
You'll see the Great White Throne,
And stand before it all alone.
Kate had betaken herself to her favourite place, the hearthrug. She was
silent until Lucy had reached the middle verse of 'Almost persuaded,'
which she sang with due impressiveness. Then a sorrowful little voice
quavered:--
'I'm so lonely. I thought we were going to have _such_ a nice time.'