MY LIFE LESSON.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 2385, 22 October 1887, Page 2 (Supplement)

MY LIFE LESSON.

I hud boon Hitting long at the window, watching I know not what, seeing I know not whom, for though the throng of people passed, and the flakes of snow held high war in the air, loafing feathery darts on the coats of tho passers-by, or following in a mad chase around the corner, yet all came and went unheeded by me. I was as one having eyes, yet seeing not. I had been sitting in this listless state, wondering in what way I could make myself of some noto in the world. I thought over the long list of accomplishments which I had known and read of others attaining, but money and talent wore necessary. Of the former, you would see that it had been scantily motad out to mo would you but peep at the cheap piper hangings, few books and fewer pictures, which had served their generation, and now stood enjoying humble intimacy with each other in the little room where I was seated, which served as parlor, sittingroom, or both. # Hud I talent. I am snro it lay buried on the floor of my mind, crushed by the multitude of common-pluoo things that necessarily fill the mind of a girl whose position is a mother s right hand. I could And no poetry in tho splash of the water, while I was engaged at the homely work of dish washing ; and could a lofty thought have arisen while I was wielding my broom, the young germ was soon choked, or did it survive for awhile i u the dust, it soon escaped to tho sisterhood of imagery. These were the substance of my thoughts in this early wintertwilight, and I hastily drew the shades, wishing that I might as easily draw a veil over my dissatisfied mind, I did want to ho content in that position iu which Clod had placed me, and to that end I earnestly prayed ; but I am afraid that while I asked to be content I was hoping it might he in some nobler sphere, and so I turned my back on the small duties that grew in my path, thus making my life more and more wretched. One evening not long afterwards, as I was preparing supper iu our little kitchen, I hoard a voice very softly and sweetly singing the familiar song “ Homo Sweet Home.” The voice was so pathetic that I could not resist opening the door, and there in the back yard stood a woman. She stopped singing as she saw me, and came forward to whore I was standing. I soon learned that, every other moans failing, she had thought of using her voice iu singing, hoping to earn a little eich night to help to support her sick sister and herself. From her face and manner I judged her'to he no common beggar, and giving her some change, I resolved to visit her homo the next day. Down to the North End I went, passing gin shoos whore dirty women and men stood lounging and drinking over tho counter, filling the air with tho vile odor of their breath, then on to where the emblematic balls of the pawnbroker hung so low that they seemed to roach and leave their impress of woo on each passer-by—-on, and still on, I walked, until I found myself in 0. Court. As I looked at the wretched houses and the groupsof uneared for children, who, though young, had faces grown long and thin by want’s pinching grip, I wondered whether human life really could exist in such a place, Tho question was soon answered wh> n I found the homo, or rather room, of the sisters ; for not only was there human life, but also a life whoso substance was drawn from above rested there. I could not keep hack my surprise at the perfect happiness I saw anyd such groat will lotion; for both sisters were advanced in life, with want continually staring at them, yet their faces bore the marks of patient resignation to God’s will. Seeing the sufferer smile, ns she held out her hand to me, I said—- “ You seem very happy.” “Indeed I am,” she replied. “What should make one happier than the knowledge of being the child of a king, and that king Christ ? All I can do is to sit. here, yet I have learned that ‘ they also serve who patiently wait.’ " It flashed upon my mind in a moment,; God had sent me here to learn my lifelesson. If this poor sufferer could serve God hy patient waiting, then I also could servo him in the round of my daily cares, which indeed is the highest aim iu life. The plain homely work must be done, as well ns tho lily work carving : and it matters not what, if each day finds the chisel cutting deeper and deeper to tho glory of God. That day my real life began ; my plain old home became n sacred and lovely spot ; my longing soul was satisfied with its mission, ready to enter the battle that God had planned, resting assured that it will bo all tho bettor prepared to sing tho victor’s song.