A few weeks ago, a dear little girl in Bath, Maine, was so ill that she felt she could no longer live in her poor, suffering body. At first she was sad at the thought. It did seem to her such a long, strange, dark way, from the warm room where she was with her friends, to the heaven where Christ is, and where those who are good and pure in this life shall find a home much better than any on this earth!
But soon this little girl began to think, and to feel that God must be just as near to her in the hour of death, and in the room where she lay, as he had been in the hour of her birth; that, as she owed her life in this world to him, she must own her life in the next to him too; that so he must be just as near to her on the earth as in heaven; and that his arms would be round about her soul, and save it from harm when it left the dead body, no matter where she might be.
As these thoughts came to her mind, a sweet smile stole over her face. No more did she feel afraid. She felt as if God’s angels were quite near, to help and cheer her, and show her the way. She grew calm and happy. What at first had seemed to her along, dark road, now seemed short and bright and very near. And at last she cried out, “Oh, it is only a little brook!” and so passed on to the heavenly shore.
But what did she mean by “only a little brook”? She meant that the way from our own world to the world where the soul goes when the body dies is not far; that, when we are good, God is as near to us in the world where we now are as he will be in the next; and that to pass from this life to the next is just like crossing a little brook, so shallow that children can wade across it, or sail their tiny boats on it.
Oh! how much do those men lose who do not believe fully in that better life after this, and who do not act as if they believed it! Let us but mind the words of Christ, --be pure and good, and show love to God and man in our acts here; and then, like the little girl in Bath, Maine, we need not be afraid to have our bodies die; for there is no more cause for fear then in crossing a brook from one bank to another. Let us think of this when we say our little hymn, --
“Now I lay me down to
sleep,
I pray the Lord my
soul to keep:
If I should die before
I wake,
I pray the Lord my
soul to take.”
Anna Livingston
Elaine Craven, mother
of Maureen Craven who died in Memphis, TN, on 11/5/89, found this story
in an antique book.