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A Truthful Story
The train on which I was traveling one evening was going west. At a station, a little girl about eight years old came aboard carrying a small sack under her arm. She came into the car and deliberately took a seat. She then commenced an eager scrutiny of faces, but all were strangers to her. She appeared weary, and placing the sack for a pillow, she prepared to try to secure a little sleep. Soon the conductor came along collecting tickets and fares. Observing him, she asked if she might lie there. The gentlemanly conductor replied that she might, and then kindly asked her for her ticket. She informed him that she had none, then the following conversation ensued.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
She answered, "I am going to heaven."
"Who pays your fare?"
She then answered, "Mister, does this railroad lead to heaven, and does Jesus travel on it?"
He answered, "I think not. Why did you think so?"
"Why, Sir, before Ma died, she used to sing to me of a heavenly railroad, and you looked so nice and kind I thought this was the road. My Ma used to sing of Jesus and the heavenly railroad, and that He paid the fare for everyone; and that the train stopped at every station to take people on board, but my ma don't sing to me any more. Nobody sings to me now, and I thought I'd take the cars and go to Ma.
Mister, do you sing to your little girl about the railroad that goes to heaven? You have a little girl, haven't you?"
He replied, weeping, "No, my little dear, I have no little girl now. I had one once, but she died some time ago and went to heaven."
Again she asked, "Did she go over this railroad; and are you going to see her now?"
By this time all the persons in the coach were on their feet, and most of them were weeping. An attempt to describe what I witnessed is almost futile. Some said, "God bless the little girl."
Addressing herself once more to the conductor, she asked him, "Do you love Jesus? I do, and if you love Him, He will let you ride to heaven on His railroad. I am going there, and I wish you would go with me. I know Jesus will let me into heaven when I get there, and He will let you in, too, and everyone that will ride on His railroad‹yes, all these people. Would you like to see heaven, and Jesus, and your little girl?"
These words so innocently and pathetically uttered brought a great gush of tears from all eyes, but most profusely from the eyes of the conductor. Some who were traveling on the heavenly railroad shouted aloud for joy.
She now asked the conductor, "Mister, may I lie here until we get to heaven?"
He answered, "Yes, my dear. Yes."
"Will you wake me up then, so that I may
see my ma, your little girl, and Jesus? I do so want to see them all."
The answer came in broken accents, but in words very tenderly spoken,"Yes, dear angel. Yes. God bless you." "Amen," was sobbed by more than a score of voices.
Turning her eyes upon the conductor, she interrogated him, "What shall I tell your little girl when I see her? Shall I say to her that I saw her pa on Jesus' railroad? Shall I?" This brought a fresh flood of tears from all present; and the conductor kneeled by her side and embracing her, wept the reply he could not utter. At this juncture the brakeman called out, "H‹s." The conductor arose and requested him to attend to his (the conductor's) duty at the station, for he was engaged. That was a precious place. I thank God that I was a witness to this scene, but I was sorry that at this point I was obliged to leave the train. We learn from this incident that even out of the mouth of babes God hath ordained strength; and that we ought to be willing to represent the cause of our blessed Jesus even in a railroad coach.
A few months after this occurrence I received the following from the conductor:
The Conductor's Letter
Elder Dosh:‹I wish to relieve my heart by writing to you that the angel visit on the cars was a blessing to me, although I did not realize it in its fullness until some hours later. But, blessed be the Redeemer, I know I am now His, and He is mine. I no longer wonder why Christians are happy. Oh, my joy, my joy! The instrument of my salvation has gone to God. I had purposed adopting her in the place of my little daughter, who is now in heaven. With this intention I took her to C‹B‹, and on my return trip took her back to S‹, where she left the cars. In consultation with my wife in regard to adopting her, she replied, "Yes, certainly, and immediately too, for there is a Divine Providence in this. Oh," she said, "I never could refuse to take under my charge the instrument of my husband's salvation." I made inquiry for the child at S‹n, and learned that three days after her return she died suddenly, without any apparent cause, and her happy soul had gone to dwell with her ma, my little girl, and the angels in heaven. ‹J. M. Dosh
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