p. 10 | THE DYING GIRL by C. H. Fowler

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Oct 9, 1901

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 27, No. 41.

THE DYING GIRL.

By C. H. Fowler

I WENT once to see a dying girl whom the world had roughly treated. She never had a father, she never knew her mother. Her home had been the poor-house, her couch the hospital cot, and yet, as she staggered in her weakness there, she picked up a little of the alphabet, enough to spell out the New Testament, and she had touched the hem of the Master's garment and had learned the new song. And I never trembled in the presence of majesty as I did in the majesty of her presence as she came near the crossing.

“O sir,” she said, “God sends His angels. I read ‘in His Word: ‘Are they not all ministering spirits, ‘sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of ‘salvation?’ And when I am lying in my cot, they ‘stand about me on this floor, and when the heavy ‘darkness comes, and this poor side aches so severely, ‘He comes, for He says, ‘Lo, I am with you,’ and I ‘sleep, I rest.”—C. H. Fowler.