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‘‘Forgive
us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us.” |
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Timothy Ossepovitch,
a young man of twenty, had been robbed of his money by an uncle, who also
prevented his marriage to a young woman whom he loved. |
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In his
blind rage he struck the uncle, wounding
him in the head. For this he was banished to |
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Sixteen
years passed. He had become deeply religious, but still cherished a deep
hatred against his uncle. |
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His
circumstances were now pleasant. It was summer time. Seated in the garden
among his roses, he read the Gospel, and how Simon, the Pharisee, did not
receive Jesus kindly to his house. |
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With tears
of emotion, he said, “Oh, that Christ would come to my house. Lord, if Thou wilt come, I will give Thee even
my life.” |
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Suddenly
and softly came an answer, “I will come.” |
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Timothy
Ossepovitch trembled for fear and for joy. Each day an empty chair was placed
at the table, and an extra plate set. |
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It was
Christmas Eve. “To-morrow I expect the Lord.” He invited the poor and those
in affliction to eat with him. |
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They rose
and said the Lord’s Prayer and the Eastern Christmas Hymn, “Hallelujah.
Glorify Christ on our earth, Who came down from the skies.” |
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Then a great
knocking on the wall shook the building; there was a strange noise in the
entrance-hall. The door of the room opened wide. |
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All
present rushed in terror to the remotest part of the room, some even fell
down. Only the boldest ventured to look towards the door. |
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An old man
shivered there in rags, supporting himself with his hands on either post. A
strange, ruby lamp was held above him by a shining hand as white as snow, and
the light fell on a scar on the old man’s head. “I had lost my way in the snowstorm,
when a voice said, ‘Go quickly, instead
of Me,’ and I was drawn by both hands hither, I know not how. I have
wandered over the world to seek forgiveness from my nephew before I die. I
have been sorely punished, and have lost all.” |
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Then spake
Timothy Ossepovitch and said, “It is the Lord Who has guided thee here, He
Who said, ‘If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink.’
Remain in my house unto your life’s end, and give me your dying blessing.” |
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From: Confidence, Vol. IV, No. 6, June 1911,
pag. 140, |