A few years ago two young Africans went to England to obtain an
education, and then return to Africa to teach their countrymen the
gospel of Jesus Christ. One of them, George Nicol, while staying
near London, walked a considerable distance. In his walk he came to
Hampstead Heath, from which he could see the city of London before him.
The principal buildings attracted his attention. A laborer who was
breaking stones on the other side of the road, kept looking at him; no
doubt it seemed strange to him to see a colored man looking at the view
he had himself seen every day for many years past; and in his eyes,
perhaps, the wonder would be increased by seeing the African dressed
like a respectable Englishman.
While George Nicol stood gazing on the scene the laborer kept peeping
at him from time to time, but never thought of speaking. Presently
George Nicol turned to him, and asked in good English, what a certain
building was which he saw in the distance. The laborer answered civilly
that it was St. Paul's Church; and then replied to several other
questions, till he had pointed out the chief buildings of the great
city, which could be seen from the hill on which they were standing.
When this was done, after a short pause the African said: "Well,
my friend, you have here a very large and magnificent city; but,
after all, it is not to be compared to the city of God, the heavenly
Jerusalem, which I hope you and I will both see one day."
If the honest laborer was surprised before, his astonishment was much
greater now.
"Why," said he, "do you know anything about such things?"
"Yes, thank God," replied the African, "I am happy to say I do. It was
not always so. I was once in darkness, and knew nothing of the true
God; but good missionaries from England came, and taught me about Jesus
Christ; and now I live in hope of one day seeing Him in that beautiful
city, the heavenly Jerusalem, where I shall dwell with Him forever."
By this time the good Englishman had thrown down the hammer with which
he had been breaking stones. He came across the road, and grasping
Nicol's hand exclaimed, "Why, then, you are one of them that I have
been praying for these twenty years. I never put a penny into the
missionary box without saying, 'God bless the colored man.'"
It rejoiced the heart of the good African not a little to find in the
humble stone-breaker a friend who had taken such a deep interest in
the people of Africa. And if his pleasure was so great, the laborer's
was not less, for he saw in George Nicol an answer to his prayers, and
a sure proof that his missionary money had not been spent in vain. He
felt the truth of the words, "Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou
shalt find it after many days."