The Storyteller
LED INTO LIGHT.
Five years rolled by bringing to George Ross dver-in creasing gloom and despondency.
The leading oculists had failed in their efforts to restore his sight. They had all declared him incurable. But a European specialist Who had won fame by a new method of treating the eyes with electricity, gave a different verdict. He assured the patient that he could bring back the sight by persistent treatment, and that it could probably return as suddenly and swiftly as the lightning flash which took it away. Mr. Ross put himself in this specialist's hands, yet he felt utterly hopeless as to the result. He was weary of life and was only restrained lrom destruction by love for his son. The child was the one ray of light in his darkened existence—the one bright star in the never-ending night through which he moved. He idolised the boy, and Anthony, in turn, adored this sad-faced man who was so cold and stern to all save him.
As soon as ho could toddle, lie caught his father's hand and tried to lead him into the sunshine. As he grew older he gravely called himself ' Daddy's Eyes.' They were inseparable. Mr. Ross talked to him as though he were a companion of his own age The most perfect understanding and sympathy existed between them. Just now Anthony was perched on his father's knee. He had a small mirror into which lie gazed intently.
' I hasn't growed much since my last bcrfday, Daddy,' he said, ' yqu member how I looked then ? '
' Yes, little son. You gave me a word picture of yourself. But I want another now.'
' Well, my eyes looks like Peggies choe'late drops, only there's a lot of shiny white round them, an' they's very big ; a>n' my hair's the same as that golden floss she sews things with. It's too long ; it makes me hot am' the boys calls me girl-baby. Can't I cut it off, Daddy '? '
' I'll speak to Peggie about it by-and-by, dear. Go on.'
' Oh, that's all, on'y I have a teeny weeny red mouth, an' there's a frowny place, just like yours, on my forehead.' ' But you never frown, Tony, you are always smiling,'
' Deed, no, Daddy. I've got a big temper inside of me. It did jump out to-day like my Jack-in-the-box, an' I knocked cousin Eddie down.'
' Anthony ! he is older and stronger than you ! What was the trouble ? '
'He 'suited you. ITe said you didn't believe in God ; then I hit him hard an' ho fell.'
' So, my son, you are an expo nent of muscular Christianity ! Humph ! AH you professing believers, big and little, are alike ; all are ready to kill each other any time for a mere difference of opinion. Now you must tell your cousin you are sorry. He was quite right. I do not believe in God ! ' The child wound his arms around his father's neck, and kissing tlic shut lids, pityingly, ' Oil, my poor poor Daddy ! That's 'cause you can't see.' The sorrow in the sweet voice went straight to tiic father's heart. He dared not trust himself to s^ealc. ' I am your " Eyes," Daddy dear. I'll show you where God is. His house is in the sky. My mudder is with Him. She comes sometimes when I'm asleep. She says she's waiting up there for you n' me, an' that I must bring j:oy to her.'
George RosvS started as ho remembered his wife's j farewell words. Then he said quietly, ' You are fanciful, my boy. Your mother died when you were six 'hours old, so 4 how
could you know her even if it was possible for her to come to you in a dream.'
' Oh, I did know her the very first time,' the child said confidently, 'it was when I was so awful sick. S/he did hold out her arms and smile at me. Daddy, you b'lieved in God that time. Peggie said she did hear you pray to Him.'
George Ross winced. He did not like to be reminded of what he called 'his momentary weakness when he had dropped on his knees beside his fever-racked child, • and echoed Peggies prayer — ' Oh, God, don't take him from us. In Thy mercy let him live ! '
He 'put the boy down gently : ' Run away, Tony, and play with your birthday presents.'
The dhild obeyed, and the father paced the length of his library wrapped in thought.
He recalled the days of his youth and the unihappiness in his home resulting from that crying evil known as ' a mixed marriage.' When he grew old enough to have an opinion of his own, he refused to embrace tsie religious tenets held by his father, and was equally reluctant to adopt his mother's beliefs. He resolved to find out for himself the underlying principles of Christianity, and select the creed that seemed 'most in accord with them.
To further tihis end he began a course of desullory reading, and was soon lost in a quagmire of sophism, as, misleading as it was brilliant. He emerged from it a confirmed tmbeliever, and for 20 years waged war against the Creator. His weapon was not the sword of ridicule so clumsily wielded by some of his brethren, or the blasphemous invectives wtrich defeated their own end by disgusting the listener. With all.tihe strength of personal conviction he denied that there was anything psychical in the universe outside of human consciousness. He rejected the Bible as an authority in doctrine and morals on the plea, that it consisted solely of hypothetical assumptions and untenable statements ; and he had a way of presenting the rationale of its narratives — stripping them of their mysteries and theological adjuncts — which impressed the hearers.
As he was master of one of the best prose styles, his writings were eagerly read and his lectures were largely attended. ' Facts,' when expounded by this cloai'-voiced, keenbrained man of science, were accepted more readily than they would be if presented by a less-gifted individual.
He paused now in his walk, and sighed 'heavily as ho remembered that this was the fifth anniversary of the night when his public career had come to a sudden end.
His gioomy reflections were interrupted by tttie hasty entrance of his son. The bfoy rushed up to him, and in a voice vibrating with ex citement, cried : Daddy — Daddy, — come quick ! Peggies niece told me 'bout a church in. Sullivan street where blind people are cured. Saint Anthony is down there. Let us go. He will make you see. Hurry — Oh, Daddy, hurry ! '
' Don't be a silly baby ! Peggy must not let amy one put such superstitions notions in your head. I won't have it. Now let me hear no more of this nonsense ! '
Never before hart Atathony heard a note of sternness in his father's voice when addressing him. He shrank hack, dismayed, abashed, quivering with pain. He was a "bravo little fellow, so he tried to restrain, the starting tears, but he could not choke back the sob that shook his small frame.
At sound Qi it, the bjinri maa's heart melted. Drpppin|s' o»""iojie knee, he opened bis arms wnd daid tewderly : ' Come to me, Tbiiy. I djdji't mean to he cross. ' .■ Ttlhe boy clung to him. After a moment he whispered pleadingly : ' Oh, Daddy, if you'd only conm ! Eloase do — jjus' this little once. For my sake— <do !' Mr. Ross marvelled at the child's insistence. Hitherto the lightest word had been a law to the boy— a. law to be obeyed instantly and ufn-q-uestianingly: He was displeased to find that this instance proved an exception, biut when he found that the child was trembling with earnestness, and that his whole heart seemed bent on visiting the church, he gave in :—: — ' Very well. I will take y,ou there since you wish it so much. Tell John to get a hansom.' Am. ecstatic hug- rewarded him. Five minutes later father and son were bowling towards Sullivan street. The servants in the Ross household were greatly excitsd over the •incident. They crowded to the -windows and peeped after the retreating vehicle.
' Sure it's a beautiful ritjht to watch the masther goia' towards the Hoiuse of God wid nn at pel ladin' him be the hand,' sobbed old Peggie, ' Aji mark, my worlds, girls an' boys, he'll come home to us a changed mail ! Something inside of me whispers it. Let's kneel down every wan of us an' pray for him.'
IV. As the hansom neared the Church of Saint Anthony of Padua, the boy looked out curiously. He saw a dirty, narrow street, shut in on either side with frowning tenements and sw,arming with half-clald children who tumbled over each other on the car-tracks and in the gutters. When they alighted before the door of the basement or lower church where the Tuesday night devotions are held, he drew his father after tlhe people who were entering. They were late, the services having been in progress for some time. An usher piloted them into a pew in the middle aisle, not far from the altar. Anthokiy could not see over the heads of those before him, blut he listened eagerly to the preacher wh-o from the altar steps exhorted the congregation.
Mr. Ross listened too, but with very different sentiments. He felt an impatient 'desire to rise and combat those dogmatic statements relative to the great truths of Christianity. And he scoffed inwandly on hearing the long list of favors asked for and received through St. Anthony's intercession. Then, too, his fastidious nature rebelled against the enforced contact with the sweltering mass of humanity around him. Meanwhile Anthony's anxiety to sec the preacher grew too strong to be repressed He climbed on the seat and looked towards the altar. As he did so his heart gave a great throb, for he saw there a strangely familiar figsuro clad in a long brown robe with a girdle around the waist. Nearly everyone present knew that the wearer of this Franciscan habit was Father Paola, the gentle pastor who had labored in that parish for many years ; who was familiar with the names and occupations of his people ; and their sorrows and their joys, and who smiled on them now from the altar witih the same loivo and benignity he brought into their poor homes.
But Anthony did not share tiheir knowledge. He had seen just such another face, figure, and seraphic smile when Peggie brought him to kneel before the statue of Saint Anthony in the Dominican Church near his home. And he drew !his own conclusions.
He waited until the voice ceased, than scrambled from the seat, and rushed down the aisle, his fair hair floating .around him. Straight
through the sanctuary he sped, and falling at the priest's feet grasped the coarse robe while his clear treble sounded through the church in the earnest appeal : 'Oh, good Saint Anthony make my daddy see t '
Hie blind man started up and would have followed only that some one caught his arm.
The priest saw and recognised tho famous iniklel whose writings and lectures had done incalculable harm. Impulsively he fell upon his knees, and putting his arm around the child, repeated in vibrant tones . ' Oh, good Saint Anthony, make his Daddy see ! ' The people were stirred to the depths. In very truth, ' their hearts were moved as the trees of the wood are moved with the wind,' ajid from overy corner of the church there rose the spontaneous, thrilling cry, 'Oh, good Saint Anthony, make his Daddy see ! ' The volume of mighty sound swept upward to the Great White Throne, and died away in a sobbing whisper.
Father Pfeola murmured something to the child who nestled confidingly against him. The little fellow trotted back and slipped his hand into that of his father.
For a few moments Mr. Ross sat bolt upright, but when the strains of the ' Tantum ergo Sacramentum ' floated through the church, some power stronger than his own will or inclination forced him to his knees.
The choir of trained voices rose and fell, piercingly sweet : ' Down in adoration falling, Lo, the Sacred Host we hail, Lo, o'er ancient forms departing, Newer rites of grace prevail; Faith for all defects supplying Where the feeble senses fail.'
Around him ho heard men and women praying. The belief and adoration in their whispered words thrilled and awed him A germ of flaitih sprung up in his heart and quickly sprouted. A great wave of emotion swept over him. lie buried his face in his hands and for the first time since childhood, hot tears streamed diown his cheeks. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain shoot through his eyes. He hastily raised Ids head. A second later, lie was on lus feet clutching wildly at the pew Before him there seemed to spread a reddish cloud — waving — flickering — breaking here iiml there. in the midst of it appeared myriads of sparks, whirling, dancing, and changing into points of colored light Then all at once, the cloud melted . the shifting mass steadied, and he saw !
For a second he ga?ed wildly at the the altar with twinkling lights at the priest in his noUl-hurd vestments holding aloft the shining monstrance, and at the bowed heads of tho worshippers. Then he turned swiftly and beheld his little son looking at him — the sweet brown ej es and beautiful face full of love
With a, rapturous oxclamation he snatched him to his breast and hurried down, the aisle. When lie reached the Communion rail, he pi ostratod himself on tho ground, his haughty heakl bowed in the dust, and through tjie length and breadth the chiurch his voice rang out in the tremulous cry • 'Oh Lfoid, Oil God, 1 bclio,ve ! Help Thou my unbelief '' Then he staggered mto the air, the l>ov clinging to Ins neck
During the rapid homeward drive, lie only moved his eyes from his child's radiant face to glance at the starlit sky , and ohco again the pra.ver of thanksgiving m Ins heart found its Way to his lips. In that moment lie registered a vow to undo as far as possible all the mischief he had done by his writings and false teachings, n<nd devote the remainder of his life to disseminating 1 the light tiiat had come to him
As .soon as they entered the house Anthony's ringing cry, 'My D.id<ly b'lieves in God an' now he can see i' brought the servants flocking to thu hall. Peggie led the way.
' What did I tell ye^e— what ?' she asked joyously, ' Now glory be to you, my Got), shure this is tho happiest minit of mo life ! ' And having wrung her master's hand she retreated, sobbing and kuigiiiig in the same breath
The good news (ravelled fast, and it was not lon^ before the eye-''peci-alist arrived on the scene, breathless and excited
' T have been expecting this for some time, Mr. Koss.'he cried, ami forthwith he plunged into a sciontific explanation of the how, way, and wherefore.
Mr. Ross heard him to the end, than he said unsteadily — 1 cannot follow your arguments. I üm dazed with joy. I can understand and realise one thing only — that I havo been LED INTO LIGHT. — ' The Lamp.'
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZT19011107.2.50
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXIX, Issue 45, 7 November 1901, Page 23
Word Count
2,554The Storyteller New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXIX, Issue 45, 7 November 1901, Page 23
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