LITTLE MABEL'S SNOWDROPS.
The next morning Christie woke with a happy heart, for he remembered his
last night's prayer, and in his simple faith he had taken the Lord at
His word, and had believed that the blood of Jesus Christ had cleansed
him from all sin.
But old Treffy's doubts and fears came back again. He began to look
within, and the remembrance of his sin returned upon him. What if, after
all, there was sin on his soul? What if the gates were still closed
against him?
"Christie, boy, I don't feel it's all right with me yet," he said
anxiously.
"Why not, Master Treffy?" asked Christie.
"Why, I've been so bad, Christie; it doesn't seem likely He'd do it for
me so soon as that; there's such a deal of sin on my soul."
"But you asked Him to wash you, Master Treffy; didn't you?"
"Ay, I asked Him, Christie," said Treffy, in a despairing tone.
"And He said He would if you asked Him, Master Treffy; didn't He?"
"Ay, Christie, I believe He did," said Treffy.
"Then of course He _has_ done it," said Christie.
"I don't know, Christie, boy; I can't feel it," said old Treffy
pitifully. "I don't seem to see it as I ought."
So, whilst Christie was walking in the sunshine, Old Treffy was still
groping on in the shadow, sometimes hoping, sometimes fearing, but never
trusting.
Christie paid another visit to the suburban road that week. Little Mabel
and her mother were coming out of the house when Christie reached the
gate. The little girl ran eagerly forward when she caught sight of the
organ and begged her mamma to stay whilst she turned the handle just six
times!
The lady spoke very kindly to Christie; she asked him several questions,
and he told her about old Treffy, how ill he was, and how he had not
another month to live. The tears were in the lady's eyes, and she asked
Christie where he lived, and wrote it down on a white tablet which she
carried in her pocket.
"Mamma," said little Mabel, "I want to whisper something to you."
The lady bent down her head to listen, and then said kindly,--
"Yes, if you like."
Mabel darted into the house, and returned with a large bunch of single
white snowdrops, prettily arranged with sprigs of dark myrtle leaves.
Very white, and pure, and lovely they looked.
"Here, organ-boy," said Mabel, as she put them into his hands, "these
are my own dear snowdrops; Aunt Helen gave me them, and you must take
them to Master Treffy, he'll like them, won't he?" she said.
"Ay! that he will, missie," said Christie, warmly.
"Mabel," said her mother, "you must teach Christie the little prayer I
told you always to say when you looked at the snowdrops."
"Yes," said Mabel, "I will. This is it, Christie: 'Wash me, and I shall
be whiter than snow.'"
Christie looked up brightly.
"Will you say that prayer, Christie?" asked the lady, kindly.
"Yes, ma'am," said Christie; "it's just like what me and Master Treffy
said last night:--
'Cleanse me and save me,
Cleanse me and save me,
Wash all my sins away.'"
The lady smiled when Christie said this, and seemed very pleased.
"I am so glad you know of the only way to be washed white," said the
lady. "These snowdrops always make me think of the souls washed white in
the blood of Jesus."
Then the lady and little Mabel passed on, and Christie looked down very
tenderly on the flowers. How he _would_ love them now! He turned his
steps homewards at once, for he did not want the snowdrops to fade
before they reached old Treffy. How fair, and clean, and pure they
looked! So different to the smoke and dirt of the noisy court. Christie
was almost afraid lest the thick air might soil them as he carried them
through it. Some of the children ran after him and begged for a flower,
but he guarded his treasures very carefully till he reached the attic.
And when Christie opened the door, who should be there but the
clergyman, sitting beside old Treffy, and talking to him very earnestly!
He stopped to give Christie a kind word, and then he went on with what
he was saying. He was telling Treffy about the death of Jesus, and how
it is that the blood of Jesus can wash away all sin.
"I can't see that it's all right with me," said Treffy, in a trembling
voice; "it seems dark and dim to me yet. I don't feel that I've got it;
I can't feel happy."
"Treffy," said the clergyman, suddenly, "do you think I would tell you a
lie?"
"No, sir," said old Treffy; "I'm sure you wouldn't; I could see it in
your face, sir, if nowhere else. No, sir, I'd trust you anywhere."
"Now, Treffy," said the clergyman, taking a half-crown from his pocket,
"I've brought this for you. You cannot work now, and you need many
things you cannot get; I will give you this money to buy them with."
"Thank you, sir," said old Treffy, the tears running down his cheeks; "I
can never thank you enough. We are very badly off just now, Christie and
me."
"Stop, Treffy," said the clergyman, "it isn't yours yet, you must take
it."
Treffy put out his trembling old hand, and took the half-crown, with
another murmur of thanks.
"Do you feel that you've got it, Treffy?" said the clergyman.
"Yes, sir, it's here," said old Treffy.
"Are you sure you've got it, Treffy?" said the clergyman again.
"Yes, sir," said Treffy, in a bewildered voice, "I know I have; I don't
know what you mean, sir."
"I will tell you what I mean," said the clergyman. "The dear Lord Jesus
has come into this room just as I have, Treffy. He has brought a gift
for you, just as I did. His gift has cost Him far more than mine cost
me; it has cost Him His life. He has come close to you, as I came, and
He says to you, as I said: 'Old Treffy, can you trust Me? do you think I
would tell you a lie?' And then He holds out His gift, as I did, Treffy,
and He says, 'Take it; it is for you.' Now, Treffy, what have you to do
with this gift? Just exactly what you did with mine. You have not to
work for it, or wait for it. You have just to put out your hand and take
it. Do you know what the gift is?"
Treffy did not answer, so the clergyman went on:--
"It is the forgiveness of your sin, Treffy; it is the clean heart, for
which you are longing; it is the right to enter into 'Home, sweet Home,'
for which you have been praying, Treffy; will you take the gift?"
"I want to take it," said old Treffy, "but I don't know how."
"Did you stop to think _how_ you were to take _my_ gift, Treffy?"
"No," said the old man, "I just took it."
"Yes," said the clergyman, "exactly; and that is what you must do with
the Lord's gift; you must just take it."
[Illustration: Christie and Master Treffy.]
"Would it have pleased me, Treffy," said the clergyman, "if you had
pulled your hand back and said, 'Oh, no, sir! I don't deserve it; I
don't believe you would ever give it to me; I can't take it yet?'"
"No," said Treffy, "I don't suppose it would."
"Yet this is just what you are doing to the Lord Jesus, Treffy. He is
holding out His gift to you, and He wants you to take it at once, yet
you hold back and say, 'No, Lord, I can't believe what you say, I can't
trust Thy word, I can't believe the gift is for me, I can't take it
yet.'
"Treffy," said the clergyman, earnestly, "if you can trust me, oh, why
can't you trust the Lord Jesus?"
The tears were running down the old man's face, and he could not speak.
"I am going to ask you another question, Treffy," said the clergyman.
"Will you trust the Lord Jesus now?"
"Yes, sir," said Treffy, through his tears; "I don't think I can help
trusting him now."
"Now, Treffy, remember Jesus is in this attic, close to you, close to
me, very, very near, Treffy. When we speak to Him, He will hear every
word we say; He will listen to every sigh; He will read every wish.
"But, before you speak to Him, Treffy, listen to what He says to you,"
said the clergyman, taking His Bible from his pocket. "These are His own
words, 'Come, now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord, though
your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be
red like crimson, they shall be as wool,' for 'The blood of Jesus
Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin.' Treffy, will you trust the
Lord Jesus? Do you think He would tell you a lie?"
"No," said old Treffy; "I'm sure He wouldn't."
"Very well, Treffy, then we will tell Him so."
The clergyman knelt down by Treffy's side, and Christie knelt down too,
and old Treffy clasped his trembling hands whilst the clergyman prayed.
It was a very simple prayer; it was just taking the Lord at His word.
Old Treffy repeated the words after the clergyman with the deepest
earnestness, and when he had finished the old man still clasped his
hands and said, "Lord Jesus, I do trust Thee, I do take the gift, I do
believe Thy word."
Then the clergyman rose from his knees and said, "Treffy, when you had
taken my gift, what did you do next?"
"I thanked you for it, sir," said Treffy.
"Yes," said the clergyman, "and would you not like to thank the Lord
Jesus for His gift of forgiveness?"
"Oh!" said old Treffy, with tears in his eyes, "I should indeed, sir."
So they all knelt down again, and in a few words the clergyman thanked
the dear Lord for His great love and goodness to old Treffy, in giving
him pardon for his sin.
And again old Treffy took up the words and added:--
"Thank you, Lord Jesus, very much for the gift; it cost Thee Thy life;
oh! I do thank Thee with all my heart."
"Now, Treffy," said the clergyman, as he rose to go, "if Satan comes to
you to-morrow and says, 'Old Treffy, do you feel you've got forgiveness?
perhaps after all it's a mistake,' what shall you say to him?"
"I think I shall tell him my text," said old Treffy, "'The blood of
Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin.'"
"That will do, Treffy," said the clergyman; "he can't answer that. And
remember, the Lord wishes you to _know_ you are forgiven, not to _feel_
you are forgiven. There is a difference between feeling and knowing. You
_knew_ you had taken my gift, and you did not know what I meant when I
asked you if you _felt_ I had given it to you. It is the same with the
Lord's gift, Treffy. Your _feelings_ have nothing to do with your
safety, but your _faith_ has a great deal to do with it. Have you taken
the Lord at His word? Have you trusted Him? That is the question."
"Yes, sir," said Treffy, "I have."
"Then you _know_ you are forgiven," said the clergyman, with a smile.
"Yes, sir," said Treffy, brightly, "I can trust Him now."
Then Christie walked up to Treffy, and put the bunch of white snowdrops
in his hand.
"Miss Mabel gave me them," he said, "and she said I was to say a little
prayer whenever I looked at them: 'Wash me, and I shall be whiter than
snow.'"
"Whiter than snow," repeated the clergyman; "whiter than snow; Treffy!
that is a sweet word, is it not?"
"Yes," said old Treffy, earnestly, as he looked at the flowers, "whiter
than snow, washed white in the blood of Jesus."
Then the clergyman took his leave, but, as he was crossing the court, he
heard Christie running after him. He had a few of the lovely snowdrops
and a sprig of the dark myrtle in his hand.
"Please, sir," said Christie, "would you like a few of them?"
"Thank you, my boy," said the clergyman, "I should indeed."
He carried the snowdrops carefully home, and they taught him a lesson of
faith. The seed he had sown in the mission-room had not been lost.
Already two poor sin-stained souls had come to the fountain, and had
been washed whiter than snow. The old man and the little boy had taken
the Lord at His word, and had found the only way into the bright city,
into "Home, sweet Home." God had been very good to him in letting him
know this. Surely, he would trust in the future.