An earnest servant of God was endeavoring to arrest the attention of
passers-by as he stood
in the midst of a small crowd at the side of the promenade, faithfully
telling of the love of God to
sinners. Many were passing to and fro, and there were some quiet,
thoughtful listeners. But
presently the speaker was interrupted by a voice:
"That's all wrong. 'The Bible is false; there is no God and no Heaven."
But the speaker went on with his address, notwithstanding the
interruption, and shortly after
the meeting was closed and the people separated.
We will follow the interrupter. Poor fellow, his heart was full of
bitter enmity to the truth,
and he tried to persuade himself, and others, too, that religion was
all a sham. But it was with poor
success, in spite of his loud talk.
He was a chemist, and as he turned into the shop and looked at the
clock, he decided that it
was time to close up for the night. But just then there came a timid
little girl.
"What do you want?" was the impatient question.
"Please, sir, mother's sick, and will you give her this medicine?"
"Too late; come in the morning."
"Oh, but please do; she is so sick; please give me it."
With a grumble he made up the prescription and away went the girl.
As the chemist proceeded to replace the bottles and turn out the gas,
his eye caught the
label on the last bottle he had taken up, and to his horror he saw at
once that he had made an awful
mistake, and put in some deadly poison.
"What can I do? The girl is gone. I know nothing of her -- don't know
where she lives --
perhaps her mother has taken, it even now!"
As he thought, the cold perspiration began to come out at every pore,
and he stood in terror.
"If the woman takes the medicine there is no hope -- I shall be a
murderer. What shall I
do?"
What hope, what comfort could there be for him, a man who did not
believe in God? In
spite of his cold denial but an hour or two before, the man fell on
his knees just where he was,
behind the counter, and cried aloud:
"O God; don't let the poor woman take that medicine!"
God, who leads the blind by a way that they know not, was surely
leading this poor,
restless sinner to the knowledge of Himself.
Scarcely able to move, in utter helplessness, the chemist knelt,
repeating his prayer.
Just then he heard some one open the door. Looking up, he saw the
child, and she was
crying.
"Oh, please, sir, I'm so sorry. I was hurrying, and I fell down and
broke the bottle. Oh,
please give me some more medicine!"
The chemist was almost overcome with joy. The child's fall had
prevented an awful death.
God -- yes, there is a God -- He had indeed heard his prayer.
"Yes, my dear, "I'll give you some more don't cry." With trembling
hand and beating heart
and mind all aglow with wonder and relief, the chemist carefully made
up the prescription again,
and the child gleefully ran off once more, her lips full of thanks for
this kindness.
The lights were put out, and the door locked, and the chemist went
home to his room, to be
alone with God -- God whom he had treated so terribly in the past, and
whose Word had been
mercifully fulfilled in his behalf, "Call upon me in the day of
trouble: I will deliver thee."
As a repentant sinner he sought and found pardon and peace through a
crucified, risen and
exalted Savior at God's right hand, and since then it has been his
delight to make known the love of
Christ to others.