Title: In The World
Author: J. S. Adams
A parent who loved his son more wisely than most earthly parents, and who longed to see him crowned with the light of wisdom, felt that he must send him afar from himself to gather immortal truth: and his heart was moved with a deeper grief at the thought that he must send him forth alone, and unprovided with means to procure his daily sustenance; for only thus could he learn the lessons which were necessary for his soul's development.
The boy lay sleeping upon a soft white bed: his hands were folded peacefully upon his breast. Hard was the task the father knew was his,--to break that sleep, that slumber so profound, and send his boy out into a cold and selfish world. But, shaking off the tremor and the weakness of his soul, he said, "Arise, my son: I must send you forth upon a long and dangerous journey to gather truths to light your soul; and you must go without the means to procure your bread and shelter. It grieves my heart, my son, that all this must be so; but yet I know the journey must be taken, and all its dangers and privations met. My prayers and blessings will go with you, child, through all your scenes."
The astonished son gazed on his father's face. The parent turned and wept; then, wiping away the fast-falling tears, he said, "I do not wonder at your earnest, curious gaze, you who have so long lived in the bosom of my love; but there are lessons that must be learned by every human soul. I cannot tell you what these lessons are: they must be experienced, else gladly would I spare you the toil, and myself the pain of parting."
The boy looked sad as he thought of the perils and exposures to which he should be subjected, without means to procure the least comfort.
The night shades fell on the earth. Only a glimmer of daylight tinged the sky when father and son parted, the one for action, the other to endure and wait his return.
The journey for many days lay over cheerless hills and barren plains; and many a tear was brushed from that young cheek by the hand which his father had so warmly pressed at parting.
At the close of a dark, stormy day, weary and faint for food, he was about to lie down on the damp grass, overcome with weariness, when he espied an elegant edifice a little way beyond.
"I will travel on," he said hopefully; "for surely, in such a mansion, I shall find protection and food for my famished body."
It took much longer to reach it than he expected; but at last, with torn and bleeding feet, he came to the broad avenue which led to the dwelling.
"What magnificence!" he exclaimed. "How glad I am that my father sent me hither to see such wondrous things!" With hope beaming in every feature, he approached the door and knocked.
It was opened by one whose voice and face exhibited no sign of welcome. He cast an impatient glance upon the traveler, who shrank abashed and trembling from so rude a gaze.
"Can I find food and shelter here?" he asked, his voice tremulous with emotion.
The door was shut upon him.
It was not the cold of the piercing storm which he felt then, but the chill of an inhospitable soul. It froze the warm current of hope that, a few moments before, had leaped so wildly in his veins; and he went forth from the elegant mansion, and sat upon the ground and wept.
"O father! why did you send your child so far away to meet the harsh and cruel treatment of the world when your home abounds with plenty?" said the weary child.
The shades of night were gathering fast. The cold, damp ground, which had been his only bed so many nights, offered a poor protection now for his weary form.
"I was contented there. Why did he send me hither?" was the questioning of his mind as he sat alone and sad.
As he was about to lay himself upon the ground, he saw light glimmering through the trees, just as the light of hope breaks on us at the moment of despair.
"I would journey thither," he said, despondingly; "but rest and shelter were denied me here. How can I hope to find it elsewhere?"
But hope whispered to his weary heart; and he arose, and passed on.
It was a small, humble dwelling, but one in which dwelt loving hearts.
He turned involuntarily into the little path that wound by fragrant shrubs and flowers to its door, and then checked himself, as though he could not bear again a cold denial. It were far easier to feel the blast and storm than again to hear unwelcome tones fall on his ears. Despite his feeble faith, he walked to the door and gave a timid rap.
The door flew open wide, as though the hinges were oiled with love; and there stood before him a form all radiant with smiles of welcome. She bade him enter; and the traveler, already warm with her bright smiles and words of welcome, felt a glow pervade his whole being,--a feeling new and unfelt before; for he had never, before this absence from his father's house, known a want or woe.
Both food and shelter did the woman give unto him; and, when the morning sun came over the eastern hills, another sun of joy and gratitude was shining over his hills of doubt. And when the woman turned from his warm, full thanks, and went about her daily tasks, these words came with a new life and meaning to her mind: "As ye have done it to the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."
Years rolled away. The murmur of their deeds was like the distant rumbling of retreating clouds after a great storm.
The youth visited strange cities, saw nations at war with each other, and learned the conflict of the human soul, and how it battles in the great life which threatens to bear it down each hour. Amid all this strife and selfishness of heart, he found many that were loyal to God and Truth. He daily learned rich lessons which he would not have effaced for all the gold and pomp of earth.
The light of wisdom began to dawn. "This is the experience which my father saw I needed. Had he provided me with means with which to journey through the world, how different would have been my life! I then should have known no value of human love and kindness. O my father! I long to return to thee, and love thee as I never could have loved thee before!"
He sat weary, but not sad, by the roadside one day, thinking of his father's love, when the sound of a traveler's approach was heard on the road. He turned his eyes in its direction, and saw one of his father's servants on a beautiful white horse.
"Your father bids you come," were the welcome words that fell upon his ears.
"Take thy steed," he said, "and journey quickly home: he waits impatiently for your return."
Fast over hill and dale he rode; and when day passed from sight, leaving a jeweled sky to mark its absence, the long-absent son rode to his father's door, and wept tears of joy upon his breast.
Together they stood, father and son, upon the Mount of Experience, overlooking all the scenes of life.
Author: J. S. Adams
A parent who loved his son more wisely than most earthly parents, and who longed to see him crowned with the light of wisdom, felt that he must send him afar from himself to gather immortal truth: and his heart was moved with a deeper grief at the thought that he must send him forth alone, and unprovided with means to procure his daily sustenance; for only thus could he learn the lessons which were necessary for his soul's development.
The boy lay sleeping upon a soft white bed: his hands were folded peacefully upon his breast. Hard was the task the father knew was his,--to break that sleep, that slumber so profound, and send his boy out into a cold and selfish world. But, shaking off the tremor and the weakness of his soul, he said, "Arise, my son: I must send you forth upon a long and dangerous journey to gather truths to light your soul; and you must go without the means to procure your bread and shelter. It grieves my heart, my son, that all this must be so; but yet I know the journey must be taken, and all its dangers and privations met. My prayers and blessings will go with you, child, through all your scenes."
The astonished son gazed on his father's face. The parent turned and wept; then, wiping away the fast-falling tears, he said, "I do not wonder at your earnest, curious gaze, you who have so long lived in the bosom of my love; but there are lessons that must be learned by every human soul. I cannot tell you what these lessons are: they must be experienced, else gladly would I spare you the toil, and myself the pain of parting."
The boy looked sad as he thought of the perils and exposures to which he should be subjected, without means to procure the least comfort.
The night shades fell on the earth. Only a glimmer of daylight tinged the sky when father and son parted, the one for action, the other to endure and wait his return.
The journey for many days lay over cheerless hills and barren plains; and many a tear was brushed from that young cheek by the hand which his father had so warmly pressed at parting.
At the close of a dark, stormy day, weary and faint for food, he was about to lie down on the damp grass, overcome with weariness, when he espied an elegant edifice a little way beyond.
"I will travel on," he said hopefully; "for surely, in such a mansion, I shall find protection and food for my famished body."
It took much longer to reach it than he expected; but at last, with torn and bleeding feet, he came to the broad avenue which led to the dwelling.
"What magnificence!" he exclaimed. "How glad I am that my father sent me hither to see such wondrous things!" With hope beaming in every feature, he approached the door and knocked.
It was opened by one whose voice and face exhibited no sign of welcome. He cast an impatient glance upon the traveler, who shrank abashed and trembling from so rude a gaze.
"Can I find food and shelter here?" he asked, his voice tremulous with emotion.
The door was shut upon him.
It was not the cold of the piercing storm which he felt then, but the chill of an inhospitable soul. It froze the warm current of hope that, a few moments before, had leaped so wildly in his veins; and he went forth from the elegant mansion, and sat upon the ground and wept.
"O father! why did you send your child so far away to meet the harsh and cruel treatment of the world when your home abounds with plenty?" said the weary child.
The shades of night were gathering fast. The cold, damp ground, which had been his only bed so many nights, offered a poor protection now for his weary form.
"I was contented there. Why did he send me hither?" was the questioning of his mind as he sat alone and sad.
As he was about to lay himself upon the ground, he saw light glimmering through the trees, just as the light of hope breaks on us at the moment of despair.
"I would journey thither," he said, despondingly; "but rest and shelter were denied me here. How can I hope to find it elsewhere?"
But hope whispered to his weary heart; and he arose, and passed on.
It was a small, humble dwelling, but one in which dwelt loving hearts.
He turned involuntarily into the little path that wound by fragrant shrubs and flowers to its door, and then checked himself, as though he could not bear again a cold denial. It were far easier to feel the blast and storm than again to hear unwelcome tones fall on his ears. Despite his feeble faith, he walked to the door and gave a timid rap.
The door flew open wide, as though the hinges were oiled with love; and there stood before him a form all radiant with smiles of welcome. She bade him enter; and the traveler, already warm with her bright smiles and words of welcome, felt a glow pervade his whole being,--a feeling new and unfelt before; for he had never, before this absence from his father's house, known a want or woe.
Both food and shelter did the woman give unto him; and, when the morning sun came over the eastern hills, another sun of joy and gratitude was shining over his hills of doubt. And when the woman turned from his warm, full thanks, and went about her daily tasks, these words came with a new life and meaning to her mind: "As ye have done it to the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."
Years rolled away. The murmur of their deeds was like the distant rumbling of retreating clouds after a great storm.
The youth visited strange cities, saw nations at war with each other, and learned the conflict of the human soul, and how it battles in the great life which threatens to bear it down each hour. Amid all this strife and selfishness of heart, he found many that were loyal to God and Truth. He daily learned rich lessons which he would not have effaced for all the gold and pomp of earth.
The light of wisdom began to dawn. "This is the experience which my father saw I needed. Had he provided me with means with which to journey through the world, how different would have been my life! I then should have known no value of human love and kindness. O my father! I long to return to thee, and love thee as I never could have loved thee before!"
He sat weary, but not sad, by the roadside one day, thinking of his father's love, when the sound of a traveler's approach was heard on the road. He turned his eyes in its direction, and saw one of his father's servants on a beautiful white horse.
"Your father bids you come," were the welcome words that fell upon his ears.
"Take thy steed," he said, "and journey quickly home: he waits impatiently for your return."
Fast over hill and dale he rode; and when day passed from sight, leaving a jeweled sky to mark its absence, the long-absent son rode to his father's door, and wept tears of joy upon his breast.
Together they stood, father and son, upon the Mount of Experience, overlooking all the scenes of life.
Our heavenly Father wakes us all from the slumber of infancy and helplessness, and sends us forth alone into the world to learn life's great lessons. When we have learned them well, he sends the pale messenger, Death, to take us home. How blessed will be that reunion! With the crown of wisdom on our heads, how sweet it will be to go no more out, but dwell with him forever!
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J. S. Adams's short story: In The World
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J. S. Adams's short story: In The World