Ministering Angels

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 poorhouse, 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.

“Oh, sir,” she said, “God sends His angels. I read in His Word: ‘Are they not ministering spirits, sent forth to minister to them who shall be the 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, and He says, ‘Lo, I am with you,’ and I sleep, I rest” (Heb. i.

14).—