FORGIVENESS.
"I DON'T know what Mr. Dodge will do," said Mr. Crawson to his wife
when the boy had left the room. "I know what I should have done if it
had been my boy that was hurt so. I'd have taken the fellow that did
it, and if the law wouldn't punish him, I'd have thrashed him within
an inch of his life. But the law will. There's no doubt about that. I
never can live here disgraced, so there's an end of it!"
Mrs. Crawson was sobbing, frightened at her husband's fierce looks.
"They say Mr. Dodge is a church member," she began timidly, "and
perhaps he'll remember Daniel is only a boy."
"When he does that I shall think there's some reality in religion,"
answered the man scornfully. "But," he added instantly, "I should ha'
done it myself. It's no use to be angry. I can't sleep and so I may as
well go back."
This was the time he saw Ellen.
"Oh Dan! Oh, my poor boy!" groaned the man turning away into the
darkness.
Two more days of dreadful suspense followed. Another physician from
the Hospital in the city near by had visited the poor boy, but did not
change the course of treatment.
When the fever was at its height poor Jimmy talked incessantly.
Sometimes he thought himself at school and repeated a few words of an
old lesson in a loud voice. Then he was at home talking to his father
or Dexter. Once he began a prayer, but stopped short with a cry of
distress, and then added; "God wont hear liars!" This was succeeded by
a loud unmeaning laugh.
Every word cut his mother's heart as with a knife. Still her constant
cry to her merciful Father was:
"Spare! spare, for thy Son's sake! Give back his reason, and spare for
repentance!"
At the close of the third day there seemed a change. The poor child lay
more quiet. No one could tell whether the symptom was a favorable one.
The afflicted family had repeated visits from their clergyman. As he
was leaving the last time he asked:
"Have you seen Mr. Crawson? I never saw a man so changed. I am told he
has not once left home or allowed his son to step over the threshold
since the sad accident. He considers himself pledged to you not to let
his son escape whatever the consequences may be."
"I remember nothing of that," remarked Mr. Dodge. "I sincerely pity
him."
Not more than an hour later there was another call to Mr. Dodge from
the bedside of his sick, perhaps dying child.
It was Mr. Crawson, haggard, pale and hollow-eyed.
"I can't stand it any longer," he exclaimed. "I want to know what you
intend to do to my son."
"I don't understand you, neighbor."
"I mean in case of the worst. I know I ought not to come to you in your
trouble; but I can't eat nor sleep till it's decided."
"Do you mean in regard to Daniel who struck the blow by which my son
was injured?"
"Yes."
"Does he seem penitent?"
"He's done little but cry ever since."
"Then tell him I freely forgive him as I hope God will."
Mr. Crawson reeled forward as if he had been struck.
"Do you mean to say," he gasped, "that you shan't take him up, commit
him to jail for trial?"
"I never thought of doing such a thing. Every day when I pray that God
would give me back the life of my boy, I pray that this dreadful event
may be blessed to his companion. You may tell him so. It would be in
vain for us to ask God to forgive our sins, if we did not from the
heart forgive each other."
There was a sound like a suppressed sob as Mr. Crawson without a word
turned away. Before he left the yard, he was crying aloud.
He was half way home when he met the clergyman.
"I believe it. I believe it," he exclaimed wringing the man's hand. "I
always scoffed at religion. I allus said it did for Sunday use; but it
wouldn't work for every day wear; but I believe it now; and Mr. Dodge
has got it too. I must go home and tell my poor boy."
The next day when Jimmy after a long sleep opened his eyes the light of
reason dawned in them. He gazed at his mother a moment and then smiled
a recognition.
She bent over, kissed his pale cheek and rushed from the room to give
vent to her joy and gratitude. On her knees, with her hands clasped,
did she thank the Giver of all her mercies for this last, best answer
to her prayers; for the good Doctor had told them if he woke conscious,
there would be good reason to hope. Jimmy saved, Jimmy's reason
restored, that he might repent and forsake his sins; what more had she
to ask for?
The first word the poor patient spoke was, "mother;" and before she
could stop him he said:
"I'm sick; but I can't die till I've told you how naughty I was."
"You shall tell me all, darling; but you are too weak now."
"I can't be better till I tell you; and I want you to tell God for me
how sorry I am."
Then in a few broken words he confessed his yielding to temptation, his
deceit and all his sin, and asked in a tone of great anxiety:
"Will God forgive me all that?"
"Yes, for Christ's sake he will." Then she took his hot hands and
bending over where he could hear her whispered words, she told her
heavenly Father of his sin and his sorrow, and begged for pardon in the
name of the blessed Saviour who came on earth to forgive sins.
After this Jimmy sunk into a sweet, refreshing sleep.
When the watchful Doctor came the next time, he comforted the parents
by telling them that all immediate danger was past, though he added
with a mysterious smile; "I have received orders to continue my visits
to my patient as long as I can do him any good, so you wont be rid of
me at present."