Men Loved the Kiddies’ Hymn
“I have seen an officer in mid-years almost break down in tears because I casually quoted the ... hymn:
“‘Now the day is over,
Night is drawing nigh;
Shadows of the evening
Steal across the sky.’”
Such was the testimony of Chaplain Thomas Tiplady, who was with the British forces in France during World War I. He gives the reason for this when he says that the man’s mother had for several years repeated the hymn to him every evening.
But most of the soldiers liked this hymn. Particularly impressive is the account given of the time when the men assembled for worship in a little church at Achicourt, about a mile out of Arras. There the men often gathered, even though the building had been badly shattered. A final service was held, and the benediction had been pronounced. Then the chaplain said: “Before we part and before we leave Achicourt which has meant so much to us of joy and sorrow, let us sing a kiddies’ hymn.” It was not in their books, but the leader read it verse by verse, and the men sang. One may easily imagine their deep feelings as they united in the words:
“Grant to little children
Visions bright of Thee;
Guard the sailors tossing
On the deep blue sea.”
The testimony of the chaplain to the effects produced by that hymn is as follows: “I have witnessed many moving sights in my time and heard much deep and thrilling music but I have never been so deeply moved by anything as by the deep, rich voices of these gallant men and boys who, after winning the Battle of Arras, had come into this ruined church and were singing this beautiful kiddies’ hymn as their last farewell.”
CHAPTER IX
SANG IN THEIR OWN TONGUES
What seems to me important and inspiring is that in hours of deep religious emotion Christian faith in different nations should find expression in the same words.
—The Christian Advocate.
Wondrous power of music!...
It touches the chords of memory, and brings back the happy scenes of the past.
In the rude mining camp, cut off by the snows of winter, in the narrow cabin of the ship ice-bound in the Arctic seas, in the bare, dark rooms of the war-prison where the captive soldiers are trying to beguile the heavy time in company, tears steal down the rough cheeks when some one strikes up the familiar notes of “Home, Sweet Home.” ...
It borrows the comfort of hope.
It drops the threads of sorrow one by one, and catches the beams of light reflected from the future, and weaves them in among its harmonies, blending, brightening, softening the mystic web, until we are enclosed, we know not how, in a garment of consolation, and the cold, tired heart finds itself warmed, and rested, and filled with courage.
Most gracious ministry of music!
—“Six Days in the Week,” by Henry van Dyke (Charles Scribner’s Sons).