SUNDAY COLUMN

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 68, Issue 141, 27 March 1948, Page 3

SUNDAY COLUMN

THE LOVE AND POWER OF THE CRUCIFIED -5 (CONDUCTED BY THE ASHBURTON MINISTERS’ ASSOCIATION). If you would get a glimpse of the spirit that was in our Lord Jesus Christ, and that took Him to the Cross read the story by Eva Booth, published some time ago in “The Reader”:

WHO KISSED ME? One morning I stood outside the large iron gates of a local police court and temporary prison. There were people waiting there, some out of curiosity and some because they had a relative inside. I waited expectantly for the opening of the gate. I heard the shuffling of heavy feet. They came close, then I heard sounds of loud voices, and one especially, that got louder ahd more shrill. It was the voice of a woman. The gates opened wider, and then I witnessed a sight which if eternity can wash it away from my mind, time never can. It was a woman. Two policemen walked in front, two behind. One stalwart man held firmly the arm on the right, and another the arm on the left. Her hair was uncombed and matted and dishevelled. Her right temple was blackened Avith bruises; clots of dry blood stood upon her left temple. Her clothes were torn and bloodstained. She tried to wrench her arms from the grasp of the police. The very, atmosphere of the morning was laden with her curses and her oaths. She tossed her head wildly as the six policemen dragged her down the passage-way and through the gtltGS. ° What could I do? One more moment and the golden opportunity would be gone. Could 1 offer prayer? No there was not time. Could I sing? It would have been absurd. Could L give her money? She pould not take it. Could I quote a verse of Scripture ? She would not heed it. Whether it was an angel’s suggestion or not. I never stopped to think, but the impulse of a burning desire, which filled my heart as she passed, made me step.! quickly forward and kiss her upon her cheek.

Whether the police were taken off their guard by my extraordinary action and had relaxed their grasp I do not know, but with one wrench she freed her arms, and clasping her hands, as the wind spread her matted and dishevelled hair, she looked toward the grey skies and said, “My God!” looked wildly round for a moment, and then said, “My- God, who kissed me? My God, who kissed me? Nobody has ever kissed me since my mother died.” Lifting her tattered apron, she buried her face in her hands, and like a little lamb she was led to the vehicle which took her to prison. Later, I went to the prison in the hope of seeing her, and at the door stood the warder.

When I approached the warder, she said, “We think her mind has gone. She does nothing but pace up and down her cell, asking me every time I go in if I know who kissed her.” “Would you let me go in and speak to her?” I said. “I amber best and only friend. Would you let me go right inside her cell?” “Yes, yes.” She opened the door, and I crept in. Her face was clean, her eyes were large and beautiful,, and she said, “Do you know who kissed me? When the policemen were bringing me in here the other morning somebody in the crowd stepped up, and put a kiss on my face. Do you know who it was?” And then she told me her story.

“Wlien i was a little girl, seven years old, my widowed mother died: she died very poor, although she was of gentle birth. She died in a back basement in the dark. When she was dying she called me to her, and took my little face in both her hands, and kissed it, and she said, ‘My poor little girl; my defenceless little girl.’ And then, ‘6 God, have pity on my little girl, and when I am gone, protect and take care of her.’ From that day to this nobody has ever put a kiss upon my face.* , , Then again she said, “Who kissed me?” I said, “It was I who kissed you. Then I told her of Him whose love was so much more tender than mine could ever be, and how He went, to the Cross, and bore our sins upon Himself, and was wounded for our transgressions, that He might put the kiss of pardon upon our brow. . In Him she found light, and joy, and comfort, and healing, and love, and salvation, and before she came out ot the prison the warders testified not only to the change in her life, but to its beauty. She was made, through God, the means of salvation to numbers of others who were down as low as she herself had been, and who weie bound with as heavy fetters as those with which she herself had been bound.