“Do you think it does any good to pray?” asked the grocer.
“O, yes, indeed. I couldn’t live without prayer, it helps me so much.”
“But,” objected his questioner, “do you imagine that the great God cares enough about our little affairs to answer the trifling requests we may make of him?” 291
“I do, sir,” replied Tom, with glowing cheeks and tearful eyes; “I have known him to do so many and many a time.”
“Perhaps you were deceived.”
“O,” cried Tom, “if you had been in the missionary’s family as much as I have, and heard him pray for things, and then see just what he asked for come into the house almost before he arose from his knees, you could not doubt that God had heard him. Why, sir, how do you suppose he has managed to get along on the little that the settlers have paid him, unless it has been in answer to prayer?”
“I am sure he must have been pinched,” answered the money-lender, moving uneasily.
“I would like to relate an instance or two,” continued Tom, “if it would not be–”
“No, no, it won’t be disagreeable to me; but I have not time to hear it now. I believe all you say. I tell you what it is, young man,” he added, rising and pacing the floor, deeply agitated, “I know more about these matters than folks think. There’s my brother; he’s a Methodist minister, just like this missionary about praying. He’s often prayed for me, and says he has the evidence that I shall be converted, and become a preacher.”
“Perhaps you will,” earnestly remarked Tom; 292 “you have ability enough to do a great deal of good.”