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Some years
ago, while conducting a series of meetings in |
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After the
singing I arose to preach, but could hardly speak for weeping. Disregarding
all the rules of the prison, in my earnestness to help the poor, fallen men,
I left the platform and walked down the aisle among them, taking one, and
then another by the hand and praying for him. At the end of the row of men
who were committed for murder sat a man who more than his fellows seemed
marked by sin's blighting curse. His face was seamed and ridged with scars
and marks of vice and sin. He looked as though he might be a demon incarnate
if once aroused to anger. I placed my hand upon his shoulder and wept and
prayed with and for him. |
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When the service
was over, the governor said to me, "Do you know you have broken the
rules of the prison by leaving the platform?" "Yes, governor, but I
never can keep any rule while preaching. And I did want to get up close to
the poor, despairing fellows and pray for them, and tell them of the love of
Jesus the Savior. 'He came to seek and to save that which was lost. This Man
(Jesus) receiveth sinners and eateth with them.'" (Luke 19:10; 15:2.) |
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"Do
you remember," said the governor, "the man at the end of the line
in the lifers' row, whom you prayed with? Would you like to hear his
history?" |
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"Yes,"
I answered, gladly. |
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"Well,
here it is in brief. Tom Galson was sent here about eight years ago for the
crime of murder. He was, without doubt, one of the most desperate and vicious
characters we had ever received, and, as was expected, gave us a great deal
of trouble. |
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"One
Christmas Eve, about six years ago, duty compelled me to spend the night at the
prison, instead of at home, as I had anticipated. Early in the morning, while
it was yet dark, I left the prison for my home, my pockets full of presents
for my little girl. It was a bitter cold morning, and I buttoned my overcoat
up to protect myself from the cutting wind that swept in from the lake. As I
hurried along, I thought I saw somebody skulking in the shadow of the prison
wall. I stopped and looked a little more closely, and then saw a little girl,
wretchedly clothed in a thin dress; her bare feet thrust into a pair of shoes
much the worse for wear. In her hand she held, tightly clasped, a small paper
parcel. Wondering who she was, and why she was out so early in the morning,
and yet too weary to be interested, I hurried on. But I soon heard that I was
being followed. I stopped, and turned around, and there before me stood the
same wretched-looking child. |
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"'What
do you want?' I asked sharply. 'Are you the governor of the prison, sir?'
'Yes, who are you, and why are you not at home?' 'Please, sir, I have no
home; mamma died in the poorhouse two weeks ago, and she told me just before
she died that papa (that Tom Galson) was in prison, and she thought that
maybe he would like to see his little girl, now that mamma is dead. Please,
can't you let me see my papa? Today is Christmas, and I want to give him a
present.' |
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"'No,'
I replied gruffly, 'you will have to wait until visitors' day,' and started
on. I had not gone many steps when I felt a pull at my coat, and a pleading
voice said, 'Please, don't go.' I stopped once more, and looked into the
pinched, beseeching face before me. Great tears were in her eyes, while her
little chin quivered with emotion. |
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"'Mister,'
she said, 'if your little girl was me, and your girl's mamma had died in the
poorhouse, and her papa was in the prison, and she had no place to go and no
one to love her, don't you think she would like to see her papa? If it was
Christmas, and your little girl came to me, if I was governor of the prison,
and asked me to please let me see her papa to give him a Christmas present,
don't you -- don't you think I would say yes?' |
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"By
this time a great lump was in my throat, and my eyes were swimming in tears.
I answered, 'Yes, my little girl, I think you would, and you shall see your
papa, and, taking her hand, I hurried back to the prison, thinking of my own
fair-haired little girl at home. Arriving in my office, I bade her come near
the warm stove, while I sent a guard to bring No. 37 from his cell. As soon
as he came into the office he saw the little girl. His face clouded with an
angry frown, and in a gruff, savage tone he snapped out: |
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"'Nellie,
what are you doing here; what do you want? Go back to your mother.' 'Please, papa,'
sobbed the little girl, 'mamma's dead. She died two weeks ago in the
poorhouse, and before she died she told me to take care of little Jimmie,
because you loved him so; and told me to tell you she loved you, too -- but,
papa' -- and here her voice broke in sobs and tears -- 'Jimmie died, too,
last week, and now I am alone, papa, and today's Christmas, papa, and -- and
I thought, maybe as you loved Jimmie, you would like a little Christmas
present from him.' |
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"Here
she unrolled the little bundle she held in her hand, until she came to a
little package of tissue paper, from which she took out a little fair curl,
and put it in her father's hand, saying, as she did so: 'I cut it from dear
little Jimmie's head, papa, just afore they buried him.' "No. 37 by this
time was sobbing like a child and so was I. Stooping down, 37 picked up the
little girl, pressed her convulsively to his breast, while his great frame
shook convulsively with suppressed emotion. |
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"The
scene was too sacred for me to look upon, so I softly opened the door and
left them alone. In about an hour I returned. No. 37 sat near the stove, with
his little daughter on his knee. He looked at me sheepishly for a moment, and
then said, 'Governor, I haven't any money; then suddenly stripping off his
prison jacket, he said, 'Don't let my little girl go out this bitter cold day
with that thin dress. Let me give her this coat. I'll work early and late;
I'll do anything, I'll be a man. Please, governor, let me cover her with this
coat.' Tears were streaming down the face of the hardened man. |
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"'No,
Galson" I said, 'keep your coat; your little girl shall not suffer. I'll
take her to my home and see what my wife can do for her.' 'God bless you,'
sobbed Galson. I took the girl to my home. She remained with us a number of
years, and became a true Christian by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ." |
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Tom Galson
also became a Christian, and on a subsequent visit to the prison the governor
said to me, "Would you like to see Tom Galson, whose story I told you a few
years ago?" "Yes, I would," I answered. He took me down a
quiet street, and stopping at a neat home, knocked at the door. The door was
opened by a cheerful woman, who greeted the governor with the utmost
cordiality. We went in and then the governor introduced me to Nellie and her
father, who, because of his reformation, had received pardon, and was now
living an upright Christian life with his daughter, whose little Christmas
gift had broken his hard heart. --Anon. |
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From:
THRILLING STORIES For Young And Old By Julia A. Shelhamer, God's Bible School
and College, Cincinnati, Ohio. No Date |