The Pastors Son | Page 3

put onto it a liberal piece of each kind of meat and some dressing,
then handed it back, with the remark, "Eat all you can son, for it will
make you strong." Then he added, "Now wife, it's your turn, I know
you like the dark meat the best," and while he was talking he carved a
nice piece of the turkey and laid it on her plate, and then said, "Now
father, it is your turn, and I know your failing to be the leg," and suiting
the action to the word, he carved for himself the leg.

Then, addressing his son once more, he asked, "How did you like the
sermon, Walter?"
"I thought it was very fine, father, and as I looked over the
congregation, I could see many heads nodding their approval of your
words telling them they ought to be thankful, and I tried, oh, so hard, to
be thankful, but I couldn't, for something seemed to say, you have
nothing to be thankful for, God gave you this sickness as a punishment.
I tried to think what I had done to merit this punishment, but found it
could not have been anything I had done, as I remembered that you had
said I always had been sick even when a little child, and then--"
"Tut, tut, child, now don't get excited," said the pastor. "We all know
that your punishment is not for anything you may have done, but you
are probably suffering for the sins of others, the same as Jesus did; why,
Walter, just think, Jesus Christ died for all our sins."
"For my sins, father?" asked the boy.
"Yes, Walter, all our sins."
"But father, I don't see how that could be. We weren't any of us living
at that time, and if we sinned, it must have been since then, and Jesus
could not die for sins that had not been committed."
The father was so surprised at what he heard, that for a moment he just
stared at his son; the idea was entirely new to him, and yet it was only
common sense. He tried to find some reply that would be reasonable,
but before he found it, the boy continued.
"I cannot believe that God punishes any one person for the sins of
another. If He would do this, He would not be a just God. Why, father,
even man is more just than that. Supposing Judge Baxter had
pronounced sentence like this: 'Yes, I find Mose Webster guilty of
stealing Mr. Johnson's chickens, and have decided to send the Rev.
James Williams to the county jail for ten months, because Mose
Webster stole those chickens,' would you think that justice? and could
you feel thankful to the judge for sending you to jail to suffer in the

place of Mose Webster, and--"
"Silence, child," said the father, more sternly than he had ever spoken
to his son before. He was so confused by what the boy had said that he
could not find words to speak. After a time he said, "Walter, never let
me hear you say anything like that again, to think that you, a minister's
son, should say such things. Why, they are almost blasphemous."
"Never mind, James," said the mother; "think how hard it must be to
suffer year in and year out, without any relief, and remember, dear, that
even some of the apostles doubted at times. Now, let us finish our
dinner." Then, turning to her son, she added, "father will explain all this
to you as soon as he finds time."
The father looked at the flushed face of the boy and his anger softened,
then in a kind voice said: "I think it would be a very nice idea for us to
set aside one or two evenings each week for Bible reading and study; in
this way we would all get a better understanding of God, and His great
love for mankind. What do you think of that plan, Walter?"
"I should enjoy it, as there is a great deal in the Bible that I should like
to have explained."
"All right, Walter, now what would you say to starting our Bible class
to-morrow evening?"
"That would please me," said Walter.
"How about you, mother?" asked the pastor.
"Oh, I certainly want to be a member of the class. I know it will be very
entertaining and instructive, besides it will be such a pleasant way to
spend the long winter evenings."
"Why mother, I thought we were going south this winter."
"No, child, it will be impossible for us to go this year. You know that
this last medicine which you and I are taking costs father five dollars

per bottle, and we each need a bottle a week,