I love the story Charles Allen tells of a little boy named John Todd, born in 1800 up in Rutland Vermont. Shortly after John’s birth, the Todd family moved to the little village of Killingsworth. And by the time little John was six both of his parents had died. I’ll let Dr. Allen tell the rest of the story.
The children in the home had to be parceled out among the relatives, and a kindhearted aunt who lived in North Killingsworth agreed to take John and give him a home. With her he lived until some fifteen years later when he went away to study for the ministry. When he was in middle life, his aunt fell desperately ill and realized that death could not be far off. In great distress, she wrote her nephew a pitiful letter- what would death be like? Would it mean the end of everything or would there be beyond death, a chance to continue living, growing, loving? Here is the letter John sent in reply:
“It is now thirty years since I, a little boy of six, was left quite alone in the world. You sent me word you would give me a home and be a kind mother to me. I have never forgotten the day when I made the long journey of ten miles to your house in North Killingsworth. I can still recall my disappointment when, instead of coming for me yourself, you sent your colored man, Cesar, to fetch me. I well remember my tears and my anxiety as, perched high on your horse and clinging tight to Cesar, I rode off to my new home. Night fell before we finished the journey and as it grew dark, I became lonely and afraid.
“Do you think she’ll go to bed before I get there?” I asked Cesar anxiously. “Oh no” he said reassuringly. “She’ll stay up for you. When we get out of these here woods you’ll see her candle shining in the window. Presently we did ride out in the clearing and there, sure enough, was your candle. I remember you were waiting at the door, that you put your arms close about me and that you lifted me- a tired and bewildered little boy- down from the horse. You had a big fire burning on the hearth, a hot supper waiting for me on the stove. After supper you took me to my new room, you heard me say my prayers and then you sat beside me until I fell asleep.
“You probably realize why I am recalling this to your memory. Some day soon, God will send for you, to take you to a new home. Don’t fear the summons- the strange journey- or the dark messenger of death. God can be trusted to do as much for you as you were kind enough to do for me so many years ago. At the end of the road you will find love and a welcome waiting, and you will be safe in God’s care. I shall watch you and pray for you until you are out of sight, and then wait for the day when I shall make the journey myself and find you waiting at the end of the road to greet me.”
-CHARLES R. SWINDOLL, Living On The Ragged Edge.-
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