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T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
March, 1936
Junior KING ’S BUSINESS B y M a r t h a S. H o o k e r
MARY ELLEN’S EASTER B y F rances N oble P h a ir helped, and her friend Helen’s chatter cheered her. Outwardly calm, Mary Ellen walked among the white-robed singers to her place in the choir loft. But the anxious,, unhappy thoughts kept running through her mind like a sad refrain. “ I have come to enjoy this service and worship, and I am going to do it,” she whispered to her self determinedly. . Perhaps it would help if she kept her eyes fixed on the stained- glass window showing the picture--she loved so well, the picture of Christ kneel ing in prayer in Gethsemane. ,:T'*‘What a strange text for Easter morn ing the minister is reading!” she thought. “ ‘For ye know the grace of oUr Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he; was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich.’ ” “ Poverty I” How she hated being p oor! Suddenly Mary Ellen drew her breath in sharply, and her eyes grew wide with' the surprise of the new thought that had come to her. He, the Lord Jesus, had chosen to become poor for her, that she might be forever rich, not in money, but with the wonderful gift of eternal life. Why, that was the very thing the minister was saying! Suppose Jesus had hated being poor so much that He had never come I Mary Ellen shivered, and a terrible feeling came to her. How dreadful it would be to be lost, and separated from Him forever ! But He had come . . . and for her! How sinful her unbelief and worry looked to her now, and how much she needed her Saviour! She sat a moment with bowed head and closed eyes, and in her heart she whispered, “I thank Thee, heavenly Father, for sending the Lord Jesus as my Saviour.” The brief sermon was over, and the choir was rising to sing “ Christ Arose.” As Mary Ellen opened her eyes, the sun broke through the theavy morning clouds, and a burst of light poured through the stained-glass window and seemed to enter her heart that had been so dark and cold. She looked with wonder at the radiant picture of the L ord; it seemed to her that she was truly seeing Him for the first. time. He had become very real to her, as though He had risen in her own heart. “He arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose!” He had left heaven’s riches for the pov erty of the cross'and o f the tomb for her. While her voice rose joyously in the song of triumph, “He arose! He arose! Hal lelujah ! Christ arose!” her heart was say ing, “He was poor for me; I won’t hate
it any more; I will thank Him that I may be poor; too.” But Mary Ellen did not feel poor any more. She seemed ever so rich, for her heart bubbled over with gladness, and her fears had vanished as completely as the shadows of the early morning. Helen wondered silently at the joy in her friend’s face and voice on their homeward walk, and her own heart grew hungry to feel such happiness. Mary Ellen did not know quite how to explain her joy to Helen. But she did manage to say, softly, “ He is risen for me!’’ After Mary Ellen had parted from Helen and had started on the last half mile alone, her feet seemed to have wings, and she quickly passed the only other traveler on the road, a tall, thin man with a traveling bag. Her heart was singing,®IIe arose,” and soon she was singing it aloud. As she turned to go up the home lane, she saw the tall man close ,behind her. She had forgotten that any one else was on the . road. She stopped a moment, feeling con fused, but the man’s clear eyes had a kind, shiny light in them, and he- lifted his hat gravely and said, “ So He has risen for you, too?”- Mary Ellen couldn’t help the little burst of confidence as she answered happily, “Yes, I think He arose for me —this morn ing.” The man nodded understanding^ and said, “And for me, just last Friday.” And he added, “ They say that in the days o f the early church, the Christians met each other with the greeting and response, ‘He is risen,’ ‘The Lord is risen indeed.’ ” Mary Ellen and the man looked at each other happily; they were no longer stran gers but those who loved the Lord to gether. Suddenly Mary Ellen noticed that the man’s face was white as though he had been ill. In a moment he set down his : small traveling bag with a little sigh. Her heart warmed to his need. “You are a stranger, looking for some one?” The man hesitated. “Yes, in a way. I’m looking for . . . some people who I am told live near the hill.” Mary Ellen nodded, “Yes, but the next house is a mile around the hill. Wouldn’t you like to get warm first and have a bit o f breakfast?” The man’s grateful smile satisfied her that she had done right, and they entered the little brown house together. While the guest rested in the room that was both living and dining room, Mary. Ellen ran to tell her mother all about him. Then she steadied her mother’s feeble steps as Mother took her place in the big chair where she had spent her days o f late. Mary Ellen drew the chair carefully to the table. The faces of both mother and daughter were beaming, for Ma r y E l l en had told her mother of her new joy in -
o m o r r o w w o u l d be Easter. ‘And very early in the morn- g O P b i g , lbs first day of n K S H
the week . . ” Mary Ellen paused. “Mo- therdee! I never did it before,- but tomor row I will do '-what the other Marys did. Very early in the morning I will go to worship the Lord!’’ Her mother smiled back into the shining
brown eyes, and as the girlish voice; read the beautiful resurrection story, Mother closed her own eyes and rested her head contentedly among the pillows. Only the tremble that crept into the girl’s voice in the evening prayer gave even a suggestion of the hgdrtache that she was hiding ,so successfully. “Faithful, brave little Mary Ellen,” were her mother’s waking thoughts when in the chill darkness before dawn she heard her little daughter building the fires and start ing the simple breakfast before leaving for the early morning service in which she and the other girls of her class were to be a part of the white-robed choir. Almost twelve years before, just after Mary El len’s brown eyes had begun to look in quiringly at the strange world around her, the big, kind father had been called to the heavenly Home; then there had come depression years, and the dear home be longed to strangers - now. But this little cottage at the foot of the hill was just fine for two, Mary Ellen said. The hard work, the old clothes, and the fact that, there were .very few good times, never daunted the girl’s happy heart; but this sickness that had come to the tired Alittle mother, the vanishing of the tiny pile of savings, and no one, no human one to help carry the burden in the long days ahead—this; was different and so hard to bear. Mary Ellen’s shoulders did not feel strong enough, and it was very certain that the little, mother’s were not. Some where, out in the gay world that had made him forget home and family, was Uncle Tom, the mother’s only brother. But he, of course, did not count as a helper. In moments like these Mary Ellen called him “the good-as-dead uncle.” He had gone away when she was a tiny girl, and she only dimly remembered him. Mary Ellen was struggling to hold fast, the faith that had been hers from early childhood. “ Christ is risen,” she said reso lutely to herself as she walked through the cold early morning darkness to her chum’s home. But the lump in her throat choked the last word. “ He is risen.” She said it aloud, but her voice ended
in a sob, and the tears so near the surface the night before splashed down on the old coat. The brisk walk in the cold
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knowing the Lord Jesus as her own Saviour. Graciously welcoming the
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