ELSIE AND THE BROWN BIBLE.
"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path."
Frida, as time went on, was growing hardy and strong in the bracing
Forest air. Every kindness was lavished on her, and the child-spirit had
asserted itself, and though often tears would fill her eyes as something
or other reminded her vividly of the past, yet her merry laughter was
often heard as she played with Hans in the woods. Yet through all her
glee there was at times a seriousness of mind remarkable in one so
young, also a power of observation as regarded others not often
noticeable in one of her years. She had become warmly attached to the
kind people amongst whom her lot was cast, and especially so to Elsie.
Several times she had observed her looking anxiously at the babe in her
arms, taking her to the light and endeavouring to attract her attention
to the plaything which she held before her. Then when the babe, now some
months old, showed no signs of observing it, Frida would see a great
tear roll down Elsie's cheek, and once she heard her mutter the words,
"Blind! my baby's blind!" Was it possible? Frida asked herself; for the
child's eyes looked bright, and she felt sure she knew her, and had
often stretched out her little arms to be taken up by her. "No," she
repeated again, "she cannot be blind!" Poor little Frida knew not that
it was her voice that the baby recognized. Often she had sung her to
sleep when Elsie had left her in her charge. Already father and mother
had noted with joy the power that music had over their blind babe. One
day Frida summoned courage to say, "Mutter, dear Mutter, why are you sad
when you look at little Anna? I often notice you cry when you do so."
At that question the full heart of the mother overflowed. "O Frida,
little Frida, the babe is blind! She will never see the light of day nor
the face of her father and mother. Wilhelm knows it now: we took her to
Dringenstadt last week, and the doctor examined her eyes and told us she
_ist blind geboren_ [born blind]. O my poor babe, my poor babe!"
Frida slipped her hand into that of the poor mother, and said gently, "O
Mutter, Jesus can make the babe to see if we ask Him. He made so many
blind people to see when He was on earth, and He can do so still. Let me
read to you about it in my little brown book;" and the child brought her
Bible and read of Jesus healing the two blind men, and also of the one
in John ix. who said, "Whereas I was blind, now I see."
Elsie listened eagerly, and said, "And it was Jesus the Virgin's Son who
did that, do you say? Read me more about Him." And the child read on,
how with one touch Jesus opened the eyes of the blind. She read also how
they brought the young children to Jesus, and He took them into His
arms and blessed them, and said to His disciples, "Suffer the little
children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the
kingdom of heaven."
"Oh," said Elsie, "if only that Jesus were here now, I'd walk miles and
miles to take my Anna to Him; but, alas! He is not here now."
Frida was a young child, and hardly knew how to answer the troubled
mother; but her faith was a simple one, so she answered, "No, Jesus is
not here now, but He is in heaven, and He answers us when we pray to
Him. Father once read to me the words in Matthew's Gospel--see, here
they are--'Ask, and it shall be given you.' Shall we ask Him now?" and
kneeling down she prayed in child language, "O Lord Jesus, who dost hear
and answer prayer, make little Anna to see as Thou didst the blind men
when Thou wert on earth, and oh, comfort poor Elsie!"
As she rose from her knees, Elsie threw her arms round her, saying, "O
Frida, I do believe the God my mother believed in hath sent thee here to
be a blessing to us!"
Often after that day Frida would read out of her brown Bible to Elsie
about Jesus, His life and His atoning death. And sometimes in the
evening, when Hans would sit cutting out various kinds of toys, for
which he had a great turn, and could easily dispose of them in the shops
at Dringenstadt, she would read to him also; and he loved to hear the
Old Testament stories of Moses and Jacob, Joseph, and Daniel in the
lion's den; also of David, the sweet psalmist of Israel, who had once
been a shepherd boy. They were all new to poor Hans, and from them he
learned something of the love God has to His children; but it was ever
of Jesus that Elsie loved to hear, and again and again she got the child
to read to her the words, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest." And erelong it was evident,
though she would scarcely have acknowledged it, that she was seeking not
only the rest but the "_Rest_-Giver." And we know that He who gave the
invitation has pledged His word that whosoever cometh to Him He will in
no wise cast out.
All this while Wilhelm seemed to take no notice of the Bible readings.
Once or twice, when he had returned from his work, he had found Frida
reading to his wife and boy, and he had lingered for a minute or two at
the door to catch some of the words; but he made no remark, and
interrupted the reading by asking if supper were ready. But often later
in the evening he would ask the child to bring out her violin and play
to him, or to sing one of his favourite songs, after which she would
sing a hymn of praise; but as yet it was the sweetness of the singer's
voice and not the beauty of the words that he loved to listen to. But
notwithstanding, by the power of the Holy Ghost, the Bible was doing its
work--slowly, it may be, but surely; so true is it that God's word shall
not return to Him void.