Part 25 (1/2)
”Everything, nearly, minister. The David Borson who left here two years ago is dead and buried. I have been born again.”
”That is a great experience. Sit down and tell me about it.”
”Yes, minister, but first I must speak of Nanna Sinclair.”
”She is dead, David; that is true.”
”She has gone home. She has gone to the G.o.d who loved her.”
”I--hope so.”
”I know it is so. Nanna loved G.o.d, and those who love G.o.d in life will find no difficulty in going to him after life is over.”
”She had a hard life, and it was all in the dark to her.”
”But at the death-hour it was light, though the light was not of this world.” And David told the minister about the farewell message she had written him, and its final happy words, ”_At last it is peace--peace!_” He could not bear that any eyes should see the paper, or any hand touch it, but his own; but he wished all to know that at the death-hour G.o.d had comforted her.
”She suffered a great deal, David.”
”What ailed her, minister?”
”What ails the lamp, David, when it goes out? There is no oil, that is all. Nanna used up all her strength in weeping and feeling; the oil of life wastes quickly in that way.”
”O minister, I am so sorry that I left her! It was selfish and cruel.
I wish now that I could cover her hands with kisses, and ask her pardon on my knees; but I find nothing but a grave.”
”Ah, David, it is death that forces us to see the selfishness that comes into our best affections. Self permitted you to give all you had to Nanna, but forbade you to give yourself. There was self even in your self-surrender to G.o.d. If you could have seen that long, long disappointed look in Nanna's eyes, and the pale lips that asked so little from you--”
”O minister, spare me! She asked only, 'Stay near me, David'; and I might have stayed and comforted her to the end. Oh, for one hour--one hour only! But neither to-day nor to-morrow, nor through all eternity, shall I have the opportunity to love and soothe which I threw away because it hurt me and made my heart ache.”
And David bowed his head in his hands and wept bitterly.
Alas! love, irreparably wronged, possesses these eternal memories; and the soul, forced to weep for opportunities gone forever, has these inconsolable refinements of tenderness. ”One hour--one hour only!” was the cry of David's soul. And the answer was, ”No, never!
She has carried away her sorrow. You may, indeed, meet her where all tears are dried and forgotten; but while she did weep you were not there; you had left her alone, and your hour to comfort her has gone forever.”
After a short silence the minister went to his desk, and brought from it David's purse, and he laid it, with the will that had been written, before him. ”It is useless now,” he said. ”Nanna has need of nothing you can give her.”
”Did it do any good, minister?”
”Yes, a great deal. When Nanna was no longer able to come to the kirk, I went to see her. She was miserably sick and poor, and it made my heart ache to watch her thin, trembling fingers trying to knit. I took her work gently out of her hands, and said, 'You are not able to hold the needles, Nanna, and you have no need to try to do so. There is provision made for all your wants.' And she flared up like whin-bushes set on fire, and said she had asked neither kirk nor town for help, and that she trusted in G.o.d to deliver her from this life before she had to starve or take a beggar's portion.”
”O minister, if G.o.d had not comforted me concerning her, you would break my heart. What did you say to the dear woman?”
”I said, 'It is neither kirk nor town nor almsgivers that have provided for your necessity, Nanna; it is your cousin David Borson.'
And when she heard your name she began to cry, '_O David! David!_'