Chapter VII: The Christmas Message

CHRISTMAS DAY had come once more, bringing not only its message of "Peace on earth" from God, but of goodwill from men to men; for into many a poor home had gone gifts to gladden, and Christmas cheer to chase away, for the time at least, some of the clouds of poverty and care that hung so heavily there.

To the Mellors it had been an unusually good time; a substantial dinner of beef and plum pudding from the Mission Hall, a present of groceries from Phil's employer, two hundredweight of coals from Mr. Armstrong, and new jackets for Phil and Rob, made by Mrs. Forbes' clever, kindly fingers, out of one of her husband's big police overcoats, all combined to make the day a very happy one; and though there was genuine regret that the father was upon a suffering bed, yet both to wife and children Stephen Mellor's absence was undoubtedly a source of peace.

The week that had elapsed since his accident had been a week of unusual quietness and comfort in the home. To Rob, the chief joy of Christmas Day lay in a surprise that he had for Mr. Jasper; for not only had the Mission Hall folk sent an ample supply of dinner to the Mellors, but, in response to Rob's earnest pleadings, a good basinful of beef, potatoes and pudding had been given him for his old friend; and no sooner had Rob swallowed the last mouthful of his own dinner, than Jasper's portion, which had been carefully put close to the fire to keep warm must be taken round.

As fast as his little legs could carry him Rob speeded down Preece's Place with his precious burden. The shed was soon reached, and in response to Rob's knock Jasper appeared at the door.

"Halloa, Rob, I thought Christmas Day was a sort of stay-at-home day to family folk like you. What's brought you here?"

But Rob was too excited to say much, until, having put the basin on the table, and taken off the newspaper wherewith he had covered and hidden the dinner, he turned round and gasped out, "There!"

Jasper was fairly surprised. "Why, where has this sprung from?" he said. "Have you and Phil been stinting yourselves to give your old friend a taste of Christmas fare?"

"No, Mr. Jasper; our Mr. Armstrong sent it to you, every bit; only I didn't want you to know about it until 'twas all here." And the child stood beaming with delight at his friend's pleasant surprise.

"Ah, but I guess if Mr. Armstrong sent it, it was Rob Mellor asked for it, eh?" And tears came into the old man's eyes at this fresh proof of the child's genuine love.

"Why, yes, of course, he knows all about you, Mr. Jasper, and what a great friend you are of mine; and you know he'll be very glad to see you when you come to the Hall."

Jasper laughed. "One of these fine days, Rob, perhaps! Wait till the spring comes, and we shall see. But anyhow you must give him my very best thanks for this beautiful dinner;" and sitting down, he began to taste the goodly fare that Rob had brought, while the child crouched down at his feet, close to the stove.

"I like Christmas, Mr. Jasper, don't you?"

"Well, Rob, I like Christmas dinner, but I don't see much in the day, except that sometimes it sets a man wishing he had somebody belonging to him."

"But it's Jesus Christ's birthday."

"So I've heard say, Rob; but what of that?"

"Why, Mr. Jasper, don't you see, if He hadn't had a birthday down here, He wouldn't have ever lived down here, and then died for us that we might go to heaven. Teacher says that for a long, long time God had promised that He would send a Saviour to die for us, to save us from being punished for our sins; and then one night, in the very middle of the night, the angels brought the message that the Saviour had come; and I should think everybody was glad. Then the shepherds that the angels spoke to went off directly to see the little baby that was to grow to be a man, and then to die; and when they looked at Him, they knew that God had kept His promise, and they were so glad, because He was going to be punished instead of them; and that's why He's called a Saviour. I can find it in the Bible, if you like, because I have read it my own self; it's in the second chapter of Luke;" and Rob jumped up and reached down the old book.

"It's rather hard words," he said. "I don't know that I can read it all."

"Never mind, Rob; you leave it open there. Maybe I'll have a look at it myself by-and-by."

And when the child had gone, and he was left alone, he did "have a look at it," not only by the light of the lamp that burned at his side, but by the light of God's Holy Spirit shining in his heart.

That light had indeed of late been making manifest the evil, and showing him that he was a sinner; but God never does His work by halves, and now the same light should reveal to him God's provision for sin—a Saviour.

Carefully did he read the Gospel narrative of the birth of Christ; the joyous message that had come from heaven to earth on that first Christmas morn. "Unto you is born this day a Saviour."

"Unto you;" but did that mean a favoured few? Nay; what said the next verse? "I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people." "All!" then that must include him—Jonas Jasper! "A Saviour which is Christ the Lord." "The Lord," why, that was God Himself; the Lord who said all the terrible things about sin was the Lord who came to be the Saviour! For the first time in his life Jonas began to see the two sides of God's heart, His hatred of sin, and His love for the sinner. He hated sin so much that He must punish it; but He loved the sinner so much that He bore the punishment for him.

For a long time the old man sat with his eyes fixed on the words, as if trying to take in their full meaning. "It's just what I want, and no mistake," he said to himself. "'A Saviour.' I shouldn't be afraid to die then, if my sins had all been punished. 'My sins'—and I used to think I wasn't a sinner, but a respectable fellow who could hold his own before God and man. Anyhow, it's a good thing I've found it out. I mind Phil said one day 'twould be a dreadful thing to find it out afterwards."

"'Tis bad enough now, but I begin to see a little hope, if God has sent a Saviour! I never used to think these things concerned me, but it seems to me now the Bible must have been written on purpose for me; anyhow it just fits me. How I wish I had started reading it before! Halloa, what's that?" and Jasper listened, as a sound of singing broke upon his ear, sweet, clear, childish voices outside somewhere.

"That's Phil and Rob, I'll be bound, come carol-singing to their old friend. What voices they've got, to be sure! No wonder they pick up something when they start that! What is it they're singing?" And before opening his door Jasper stopped to listen. They were close outside, so the words came clearly.

"Jesus, my Saviour, to Bethlehem came,
Born in a manger, to sorrow and shame;
Oh, it was wonderful, blest be His name,
Seeking for me, for me."

"Jesus, my Saviour, on Calvary's tree
Paid the great debt, and my soul He set free;
Oh, it was wonderful, how could it be
Dying for me, for me."

"Jesus, my Saviour, the same as of old,
While I was wandering away from the fold;
Gently and long did He plead with my soul,
Calling for me, for me."

"Jesus, my Saviour, shall come from on high,
Sweet is the promise as weary years fly;
Oh, I shall see Him descending the sky.
Coming for me, for me."

The voices ceased, and for a moment Jasper stood, before opening the door, as the refrain echoed in his ear, "Seeking for Me, dying for me, calling for me." He would like to have been alone just then, to think it all over; but the lads were knocking for admittance, and he couldn't keep them outside, so the bolt was drawn, and in came the singers, cold indeed (for it was real Christmas weather), but full of spirits and cheeriness.

"How did you like our hymn, Mr. Jasper?" And Phil seated himself as close as possible to the stove.

"Very much, Phil; but there's one fault to find with it."

"What's that?"

"Why, 'twas too short by half; you should get hold of something longer. Why, I'd no sooner begun to listen than you stopped."

"We'll sing it again if you like."

"So do, then; but wait a bit till I'm settled in my chair all comfortable. Rob, there's just room for you to curl in there. Now we're all straight."

In a minute the boys sang their Christmas hymn once more, and again the words fell on Jasper's ear:—

"Jesus, my Saviour, on Calvary's tree
Paid the great debt, and my soul He set free;
Oh, it was wonderful, how could it be
Dying for me, for me."

After they had finished there was perfect silence for some minutes. Phil saw that Jasper was lost in thought, and motioned to Rob to keep quiet; but presently the old man in very low tones broke the stillness.

"Yes, it was wonderful, wonderful!"

"Did you speak, Mr. Jasper?" and Rob's hand found its way into his friend's.

"I think I was talking to myself, Rob, and that isn't fair, is it, when you come to talk to me? I like your hymn very much; where did you get it?"

"Oh, it's in our Sunday School book, and we learnt it up at John Street; we sang it at lots of places last night about the streets, after I left work."

"And picked up lots of pennies, I daresay?"

Phil laughed.

"Well, we did pretty fairly, I think; we've paid our lodgings right on for next week, so that's nice, and we have a little to go on with."

"And what do you expect me to give you for your singing?"

Phil looked up in astonishment.

"Why, nothing, Mr. Jasper. You don't suppose we sang for that, do you?"

"No, I don't, Phil. I believe God sent you to sing to me to-night;" and there was a strange earnestness in Jonas's voice as he said the words. "Anyhow, I'd like to hear you once more."

"Not the same one again, Mr. Jasper; we've got such lots we know."

"I don't think you'll beat the one you sang just now, Rob; but you shall please yourselves."

So after a moment's discussion they sang the same words once more.

"And now we'll finish up with a fresh one." But Jasper hardly heeded them as they commenced to sing again. The words already sung seemed to have taken such a hold of him, as he sat there pondering over them.

Presently the boys suddenly ceased their singing, and Rob said,—

"I've forgotten the next line, Phil; what is it?"

And Phil replied,—

"Remember, I'm the sinner
Whom Jesus came to save."

Jasper started; for like a voice from heaven the words fell on his ear. The boys finished the hymn, and then, seeing that their old friend was not inclined to talk, they quietly wished him "good-night," and crept away into the cold dark night, leaving Jasper alone.

They were a little bit puzzled over him; he was so quiet, and not like himself, as Rob said. But could they have seen him after he had closed the door upon them (and bolted it, to prevent intruders), they would have been still more astonished; for there he was upon his knees, his eyes filled with tears, and his hands clasped in prayer.

"O God," he whispered, "I think I can understand it now. Thou didst send Thy Son to be a Saviour, and I'm the sinner that Jesus came to save. Oh, I am a sinner, and a big sinner too; but I can't be too bad for Jesus. Save me now, Lord; wash me in the blood of Jesus now, to-day!"

He paused, and then added softly,—

"Oh, it was wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, dying for me. Seeking for me. I do thank Thee, Lord Jesus! I do thank Thee, Lord; it's all right now!" And rising from his knees, the old man sat once more in his chair, lost in happy thought.

Christmas. Yes, the best he had ever known; for to him, as to the shepherds of old, had come a message from heaven—sung, not by angels, perhaps, but by children, sent of God, as truly as was that angelic band in Bethlehem's fields. And the result had been the same; for Jasper, like the shepherds, went and found the Christ, and knew that God's Christmas gift to him had been "a Saviour."