“Isn’t Mrs. Clark delightful? It was such a beautiful lesson this morning. I think it is such a treat and such a privilege to be allowed to listen to her. Yes, darling,” this last to another little one claiming a word, “of course Jesus can hear you now, just as well as though He stood here. He often says to people, ’Wilt thou be made whole?’ He has said so to you this morning.”
Eurie turned away quickly. She had had her lesson. It wasn’t from the Bible, nor yet did she find it in those hundred little faces so eager to know the story in all its details. It was just in that young face not so old as hers, so bright, so strong, so thoroughly alert, and so thoroughly enlisted in this matter. The vivid contrast between that life and hers struck Eurie with the force of a new revelation.
She went to the general service under the trees; she heard a sermon from Dr. Pierce, so full of power and eloquence that to many who heard it there came new resolves, new purposes, new plans. I beg her pardon, she did not listen; she simply occupied a seat and looked as though she was a listener.
But the truth was, she had not learned yet to listen to sermons. The very fact that it was a sermon made it clear to her mind that there was to be nothing in it for her; this had been her education. In reality, during that hour of worship she was engaged in watching the changeful play of expression on Miss Rider’s face, as her eyes brightened and glowed with enthusiasm or trembled with tears, according as the preacher’s words roused or subdued her.
Well, Eurie had her lesson. It was not from the Bible, it was not from the preacher’s lips except incidentally, but it was from a living epistle. “Ye shall be witnesses of me,” was the promise of Christ in the long ago, just before the cloud received him out of sight. Is not that promise verified to us often and often when we know it not?
Miss Rider had no means of knowing as she sat a listener that Sabbath morning that she was witnessing for Christ. But she was just as surely speaking for him as though she had stood up amid that throng and said: “I love Jesus.” “Ye are my witnesses, saith the Lord.” And the poet has said: “They also serve who only stand and wait.” Blessed are those in whom the waiting and the service go together.
AN OLD STORY.
Meantime Flossy, deserted by her companion, made her way somewhat timidly down to the stand, amazed by the great congregation of people who had formed themselves into a Sunday-school. With all their haste the girls had gotten a very late start. The opening exercises were all over, and the numerous teachers were turning to their work. Strangely enough, the first person whom Flossy’s eye took in distinctly enough for recognition was Mr. Roberts. He had recognized her, also, and was coming toward her.