The Three Comrades | Page 8

with
sermons, but since the time that Palko Lesina came every evening to
them it was as if a veil had been removed from the man's eyes. The
Bible became to him the living Word of God.
"The Lord Jesus used to walk by the Sea of Gennesaret," said the boy
seriously. "Now He walks through these mountains of yours.
Sometimes He passed through our mountains to seek us, and now He
seeks you."
* * * * *
Again it was Sunday. Filina got the boys ready to go to church, but he
himself remained in front of his hut. Fido who was not permitted to run
with the comrades, lay at his feet. Suddenly he pricked up his ears,
jumped up, and like an arrow flew into the nearby thicket. Bacha paid
no attention. He sat with his head bowed down. He did not even hear
someone speak to the dog, nor hear any greeting; he did not arouse
himself till he heard close to him the pleasant young voice which he
loved so much.
"Good morning, Uncle Filina. Why are you so sad and so lonely?
Where is everybody?"
"Welcome, Palko," gladly replied the man. He held out his brown hand
to the boy. "If I had known you would come, I would not have sent the
boys to the church. Everywhere is the house of God. And I suppose you

are bringing the Bible, about which you spoke yesterday?"
"Yes, I do. My father went away for a few days. He asks you kindly if
you will let me stay with your boys that I may not have to stay alone in
the hut. Will you take me?"
The beautiful eyes of the boy gazed longingly on the face of the man.
"Why, surely. We will be only too glad if you stay with us," answered
Bacha. "But why did your father go home?"
"He went with some wood. He could not take it all at once. The balance
we shall put on a float, and so carry it to our destination. Thus I could
bring the Bible to show it to you."
"Is that the one from Pastor Malina?"
"Yes, Uncle, and I esteem it very much. There are many notes in Latin
which I do not understand, and also some in Slovak. When I look at the
writing I see the pastor in front of me. I would like to show you what
he wrote the last Sunday when he became so seriously ill. Do you have
time for it, Uncle?"
"Oh, yes, my son; it is Sunday. Just read on."
"You will understand it better than I because you are older. There is
something very good: 'I have missed very much; my whole life is
wasted,' began the boy, and his voice sounded so solemn, almost as if
he were reading the Word of God. 'Even though I would, I cannot
improve anything. It is too late; it is too late! Souls passed into
eternity--it may be I did not bring salvation to them. They never come
back that I may ask them forgiveness and love them. Oh, how glorious
are the words, 'By grace ye are saved ... it is the gift of God.' In this
holy gift I take my refuge, my holy God and Saviour. I know that You
have pardoned me and have even taken the punishment that I merited
on Yourself. I cling to Thy cross; I fall at Thy wounded feet, and thank
Thee--Oh, so thank Thee; yes, I will praise eternally Thy holy name, O
Jesus!'" read Palko.

"Thus believed Pastor Malina ..." but the boy stopped because the
Bacha sat with his head bowed down, and cried aloud.
"'Even if I would, I couldn't make anything good. It is too late. The
souls went on to accuse me,'" he repeated in his crying. "That is what is
pressing me down to the ground, and all my good life since that time
doesn't help anything ..."
The boy rested his curly head in the palms of his small hands.
"Uncle, will you not tell me what is worrying you so much? It could
not be the sin that you wanted to drown your Stephen, as Petrik told
me?"
"Stephen didn't drown. I, when something is pressing me, confess it
and feel easier at once."
"The Apostle James says, 'Confess your sins one to another.' It is true I
am only a boy, but I know already how the soul and the heart ache--and
there is no comforter. But the Lord Jesus will grant it to me that I may
be able to understand and to help you."
The man looked at the boy. He stroked his whiskers. "If I have to tell
somebody about it as I have