A Little Girl Always Brought Her Three-Legged
Stool And Squatted In Front Of Me.
The rest appropriated tree-trunks
and bullocks' skulls.
The girl referred to listened to the Gospel
story as though her life depended upon it, as indeed it did! When at
Rincon only a short time, the child desired me to teach her how to
pray, and she clasped her hands reverently. "Would Jesus save me?"
she asked. "Did He die for me - me? Will He save me now?" The girl
believed, and entered at once into the family of God.
One day a man on horseback, tears streaming down his cheeks, galloped
up to my hut. It was her father. His girl was dead. She had gone into
the forest, and, feeling hungry, had eaten some berries; they were
poisonous, and she had come home to die. Would I bury her? Shortly
afterwards I rode over to the hovel where she had lived. Awaiting me
were the broken-hearted parents. A grocery box had been secured, and
this rude coffin was covered with pink cotton. Four horses were yoked
in a two-wheeled cart, the parents sat on the casket, and I followed
on horseback to the nearest cemetery, sixteen miles away. There, in a
little enclosure, we lowered the girl into her last earthly resting-
place, in the sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection. She
had lived in a house where a cow's hide served for a door, but she
had now entered the "pearly gates." The floor of her late home was
mother earth; what a change to be walking the "streets of gold!" Some
day, "after life's fitful fever," I shall meet her again, not a poor,
ragged half-breed girl, but glorified, and clothed in His
righteousness.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 273 of 313
Words from 72562 to 72859
of 83353
