T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
129
April, 1935
H a ! H a ! You know the old nursery rhyme. They counted it out on their buttons, and on the petals o f flowers, little girls with innocent laughing eyes, and no idea what any o f the names meant. They never knew what Sin was, those children! There was one, a little girl with eyes like blue flowers that I sinned against, and dragged down— ! and my son — HE IS A TH IE F ! But-------” (in a whisper) “ it-is- not-all-his-fault!” T he G irl (Shrinking back frightened into the shad ows) . “ Oh, I must g o ! I will give you some money and g o !” B lind B eggar . “ N o , Lady, I want no money! I am done with begging! What is money when one is about to die? There is help in this house somewhere, and you must lead me to it. I know it is here, for my mother believed it and taught it to me. I always knew back in my soul it was true, and that it would come out in my last hour and haunt me. Come, let us go a little farther in !” (Laying his hand heavily upon her shoulder like a command.) “ Look up, Lady! Is God anywhere here ? Can you see Him ?” T he G irl (Lifting fearful eyes under her modish little hat and hesitating— ). “ There are pictures about on the stained glass windows.” B lind B eggar (Eagerly). “ Pictures! What pictures?” T he G irl . “ There is one o f a man bearing a heavy beam across his back—a cross— It is a cro s s!'A n d there are many following in a crowd with stones in their hands and menace in their eyes. They hate Him and would like to kill Him.” B lind B eggar (Thoughtfully). “ What is His face like?Sthe face o f the one bearing the cross?” T he G irl . “ It is full o f tenderness like one who loved greatly and was suffering for that love. It seems strange, but it is almost as if the love in His face were for those who were persecuting Him. He seems more like a God than a man.” B lind B eggar (Convincingly). “ It is Jesus Christ the Son o f God as my mother used to teach m e ! I know the story well. Let us kneel here in the aisle, for my strength is going fast. I will hold to the end o f the pew. Now, look again and tell me. You say there is a crowd about Him ? What sort o f a crowd ?” T he G irl . “ A m ob ! A rabble of all sorts! And yet—• there are women among them too, and little children, some even so small they are carried.” B lind B eggar . “ Look carefully
and tell m e; is there one among them all that looks like ME? See! I will lift up my face to the light of the ceiling! Now, look quick and tell me if I am among those who persecuted Him. Are you looking?” T he G irl (Kneeling, with white uplifted face from among the shad ows of the dim aisle, studying the ghastly anxious face of the blind beggar, and then searching among the painted faces of the crowd on the window). “ I — am — looking-------” B lind B eggar . “ Hurry! Have you found me? Tell me quick! I
The Beggar
cannoi bear it.”
TiiE G irl (W ith a sharp catch in her throat and the breath o f a sob). “ They—are— only painted faces-------!” B lind B eggar . “ Y ou have found me? Is it so? I was among those who followed Him to His death?—who caused His death? Oh ,—My God! I knew it! I knew it all the ti,me! Yet I went on— ! Tell me,— is it not so?” T he G irl (Evasively). “ It is only a painting, you know. It was not meant for you.”
Made with FlippingBook - Online Brochure Maker