3 ft Happened on C f jr i^ tm a s € P e
I t happened on Christmas Eve in 1875. Mr. Sankey was traveling by steamboat up the Delaware River. It was a calm, starlight evening and there were many passengers gathered on the deck. Mr. Sankey was asked to sing, and, as always, he was perfectly willing to do so. He stood there lean ing against one of the great funnels of the boat and his eyes- were raised to the starry heavens in quiet prayer. It was' his intention to sing a Christ mas song but somehow he was driven almost against his will to sing the “ Shepherd Song” : “ Saviour, like a shepherd lead us, Much we need Thy tender care; In Thy pleasant pastures feed us For our use Thy folds prepare: Blessed Jesus, Thou hast bought us, Thine we are. “W e are Thine, do Thou befriend us, Be the Guardian of our way; Keep Thy flock, from sin defend us, Seek us when we go astray: Blessed Jesus, Hear, oh, hear us when we pray. “ Thou hast promised to receive us, Poor and sinful though we he; Thou hast mercy to relieve us, Grace to cleanse and power to free; Blessed Jesus, W e will early turn to Thee. “ Early let us seek Thy favor, Early let us do Thy will; Blessed Lord and only Saviour With Thy love our bosoms fill; Blessed Jesus, Thou hast loved us, love us still.” There was a deep stillness. Words and melody, welling forth from the singer’s soul floated out over the deck and the quiet river. Every heart was touched. After the song was ended a man with a rough weather-beaten face came up to Mr. Sankey and said. “ Did you ever serve in the Union Army?” “Yes,” answered Mr. Sankey, “ in the spring of 1860.” “ Can you remember if you were doing picket duty on a bright moon light night in 1862?” “ Yes,” answered Mr. Sankey, very much surprised. “ So did I,” said the stranger, “but I was serving in the Confederate Army. When I saw you standing at your post I thought to myself: ‘That fellow will never get away from here alive. I raised my musket and took aim. I was standing in the shadow completely concealed while the full light of the moon was falling upon you. At that instant, just as a moment
the song you sang just now. I heard the words perfectly: “ ‘We are Thine, do Thou befriend us, Be the Guardian of our way.’ “Those words stirred up many memories in my heart. I began to think of my childhood and my God fearing mother. She had many, many times sung that song to me. But she died all too soon, otherwise much in my life would no doubt have been different. “When you had finished your song, it was impossible for me to take aim at you again. I thought: ‘The Lord who is able to save that man from certain death must surely be great and mighty’ — and my arm of its own accord dropped limp at my side. “ Since that time I have wandered about far and wide; but when I just now saw you standing there praying just as on that occasion, I recognized you. Then my heart was wounded by your song; now I wish that you may help me to find a cure for my sick soul.” Deeply moved, Mr. Sankey threw his arms about the man who in the days of the war had been his enemy. And this Christmas night the two went together to the manger in Beth lehem. There the stranger found Him who was their common Saviour, the Good Shepherd, who seeks for the lost sheep until He finds it. And when He has found it, He lays it on His shoulders, rejoicing. “ He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High, shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. . . . He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust. . . . Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day.” OUR CHRISTMAS GIFT Dear friends, who give so much to me Of time and love and strength, Of tender care, of sacrifice Which goes to any length; My empty hands can bear no gifts To you this Christmas Day; Yet is my love not helpless, for My grateful heart can pray; Can pray, and by that prayer release To you a precious store Of God’s bright treasures . . . Open wide, O Heaven’s windows, pour Till blessing overflow, and may Each heart receive, I pray, God’s Gift of gifts, His own dear Son, Upon this Christmas Day! —Martha Snell Nicholson
WHAT MAKES CHRISTMAS?
’Twas not the angels’ message That gave the Christmas thought Nor yet the gold and incense Which the Wise Men had brought. ’Twas not the star that led them Upon their unknown way; It was the birth of Jesus That makes the Christmas day! So it is not the presents That make our Christmas day; ’Tis not what we receive that counts, Makes all the day seem bright, The thought of others’ pleasure, With self put out of sight. Oh, never mourn that Christmas Comes only once a year, Because it is our giving That brings the Christmas cheer. Then keep the Christmas spirit Within our hearts alway, And thro’ the year thus make it A Christmas every day. v -—Annie Johnson Flint ago, you raised your eyes to heaven and began to sing. Music, especially song, has always had a wonderful power over me, and I took my finger off the trigger. “ ‘Let him sing his song to the end,’ I said to myself, ‘I can shoot him afterwards. He’s my victim at all events, and my bullet cannot miss him.’ “ But the song you sang then was But what we give away. The joy of loving service
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DECEMBER, 1958
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