Ailing people are often eager to speak of the sad time of sickness they have passed through, and it is no small comfort to them if a stranger, resting on the same bench, will listen patiently, sympathise with their weakness and encourage their budding hopefulness by cheering words. What opportunities these incidental meetings give for saying something about the Great Physician of souls; of God's love in Christ; of our daily needs and dependence upon God, and His willingness to supply all our needs.
If the help of a girl's strong arm can aid age and weakness in the journey from the shore to the humble lodging, why should any young servant of Christ wait to compare her pretty summer dress with the faded black—the badge of poverty and widowhood—worn by the feeble, old body she would like to help? Should we not try to think how God regards even the smallest labour of love undertaken for our weak neighbour, rather than of what our fashionable friend will say if she sees us in such lowly company?
It needs a very grateful and a very loving nature to be constantly on the look-out, so as to lose no opportunity of good doing. The heart must be full of gratitude to God for mercies bestowed, and of tender consideration towards every human sister and brother, for His dear sake.
Many years ago, I was honoured by the friendship of a good man who possessed such a nature as I have described. In whatever place or company he might find himself—and more especially if he had been unexpectedly brought into it—his first thought would be, "I am not here for nothing;" his first question, "What work has God for me to do in this place?"
Stranded on one occasion at a country railway station through the lateness of a train which caused him to miss another, he was for the moment inclined to chafe at the delay. Time was very precious to him that day, and two hours of waiting would probably hinder him from saying farewell to a son about to start on a long voyage. But the habits of submission to the inevitable, and of looking around him for some opportunity of doing his Master's will and serving his neighbour, asserted themselves. A few minutes later, a young man, a passenger delayed by the same cause as he was, sat down beside him, and, after remarking, "You and I are in the same boat, I suppose, sir," began to find fault with the bad railway arrangements, and to threaten all sorts of things against the Company—actions for damages, and so on.
My friend could hardly help smiling at his neighbour's impetuosity, but he listened patiently, and at length the young man cooled down and laughed also.
"I daresay this seems foolish talk," he added; "and it is a great deal easier to threaten than to do, when it is a question of taking the law against a big railway Company; but this delay is a serious matter to me, as you would say, if you knew all about my business. You are a clergyman, I see. I am the son of one. May I——"
The young man paused, and my friend, thinking to himself, "I am not delayed for nothing," finished the question, or rather answered it by saying, "You may look on me as your father's representative, if you will, or as a friend to whom you may speak freely."
I am not going to tell you what followed. The story would be too long in detail, but I may say this much. To the end of his days my friend thanked God for that delay at the railway station, and the young man had still greater cause to do so. He was about to take a rash step, which would have caused sorrow to those who loved him and spoiled his own career; but, won by the fatherly manner of the old minister of God, he was induced to confide in him, and the wise advice he received set him thinking. Thought was followed by repentance, and this by change of purpose. Instead of continuing his journey, he took the homeward train, and before my friend resumed his, the two had parted with a warm hand-clasp and a promise of letters to follow.
Years after, when the old pastor told the story, he said, "I felt sure that I was not stranded at that railway station for nothing, but that there must be some chance of usefulness, some work that my Master meant me to do. The chapters of that young man's life story that have been written since are very different from what they might have been but for that opportune delay which gave him time to pause and think. Thank God! His father never knew how near the lad was to life wreckage, and to-day he is proud of the son who is the staff and comfort of his age.