As the son was a most excellent man the appointment was made, much to the aged father’s delight.
The next day he had assembled all the old members who had renounced paganism and become Christians at the same time as he did, over thirty years before. There were enough of them to fill his house, and all came who possibly could. They sang and prayed together, and then he stood up before them and addressed them in loving and affectionate words.
As I sat there and looked upon the scene, while, for about an hour, he was reviewing the past, and talking of God’s goodness in bringing them out of paganism, and conferring so many blessings upon them, I thought of Joshua’s memorable gathering of the elder people at Shechem to hear his dying charge. At his request I administered to them all, and those of his many relations who were worthy, the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. It was a most impressive time. He Whose dying we celebrated seemed in Spirit very blessedly near.
Then perhaps another hour was spent, at his desire, in singing his favourite hymns and in prayer. He entered with great spirit into the devotions, and many said afterwards, “Heaven seemed very near.” I shook hands with him and said, “Goodbye,” and returned to my home. With the exception of a little weariness on account of the exciting services through which he had passed, I saw no change in him. His voice was just as cheery, his eye as bright, his grip as firm as usual, and I saw no reason why he should not live a good while yet.
About an hour after, while talking the matter over with Mrs Young, and giving her some of the specially interesting incidents of the memorable services with our dear old friend, there was a sudden call for me by an Indian, who, rushing in without any ceremony, exclaimed, “Come quickly; grandfather is dead!” I hurriedly returned with him, and found that the aged patriarch had indeed passed away.
They told me that after I had left them he continued for a time to speak loving words of counsel and advice to them. Then, as had been his habit, he lay down on his bed, and drew his blanket around him, as though prepared for rest. As they knew he must be weary, they kept very still, so as not to disturb him. Not hearing him breathe, one of them touched him, and found that he had fallen into that sleep which here knows no waking. He was not, for God had taken him.
It was a remarkable death. The great difficulty among us seemed to be, to realise the presence of death at all. He suffered from no disease, and never complained of pain. His mind was unclouded till the last. In his humble position he had done his work, and done it well; and so now, with all the confidence of a loving child resting in the arms of a mother, he laid his head down on the bosom of his Lord.
With rejoicings, rather than weepings, we laid in the little graveyard all that was mortal of William Papanekis. We missed him very much, for his presence was like the sunshine, and his prayers were benedictions upon us all.