It was Saturday night. The widow of the
Pine Cottage sat by her fire with her five little children. It
was mid-winter, and the cold wind kept up a mournful howling
through the the bleak forest. Her health was bad, her scanty
supplies were nearly gone, and a single herring smoked upon
the coals before her, and formed the only supper for herself
and family. Well might she feel sad and lonely. True, she had
a grown son. But she had not heard of him for two long years.
Shortly after the death of his father, he had gone to sea, and
she knew not whether he was dead or alive.
As she laid the smoked herring on the
table, and the children were in the act of placing themselves
around it to receive their scanty share, a gentle tap at the
door and the barking of the dog, arrested their attention. The
children flew to open it; and a weary traveler in tattered
garments, entered and begged for a morsel of food and a
night's lodging. Said he, "It is now twenty-four hours
since I tasted bread." The widow's heart bled for the
stranger. Having suffered so much herself, she knew how to
feel for others, and welcomed him to come forward and share
her humble meal. The traveler drew near the table, and raising
up his hands in astonisment, he exclaimed, "And is this
all your store? and a share of this do you offer to me whom
you never saw before? Are you not wronging these poor
children, who need food as much as I?"
"Ah," said the widow, and the
tears gushed into her eyes as she said it, "I have a boy,
a darling son, somewhere on the face of the wide world, but I
know not where, who may this night be seeking the food I offer
you. For his sake, as well as your own, I freely offer you
what I have. You are welcome to the widow's mite."
The widow ended, and the stranger,
springing from his seat, clasped her in his arms. "God
has indeed provided your son a home, and has given him the
means of rewarding you for all your kindness, my mother, my
mother!" It was her long absent son, returned to her
bosom from the East Indies. He had chosen this disguise, that
he might more completely surprise the family, and never was a
surprise more perfect, or followed by a sweeter cup of joy.
The humble cottage was soon exchanged for a residence more
comfortable and more attractive, and the widow lived long in
the enjoyment of worldly competence, and in the practice of
the rites of hospitality. She had read and obeyed the command
of Scripture--"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers,
for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."
