3209 Charles Lamb’s Sacrifice
Into the life of Charles Lamb there came a deep attachment to a woman, but he willingly forsook marriage when he saw the need of his own family. Brother, son, and husband, he became the guardian angel of that home, and especially of his sister Mary, who was at times mentally deranged.
After she had stabbed her mother to death in one of her mad moments, Charles Lamb stripped himself for his sister Mary as Jonathan stripped himself for David; and for eight and thirty years he watched over her with a tender solicitude. A friend tells how he would sometimes see the brother and sister walking hand-in-hand across the field to the old asylum, both their faces bathed in tears. A sad story, and yet a grand story. Charles Lamb had his place in his home, and it was never left empty.
—C. E. Macartney
3210 McGill University’s Top Two
A story of brotherly love and courageous work under the affliction of total blindness was unveiled at McGill University, Montreal, Canada.
Thomas S. Steward injured one of his eyes with a knife. A specialist decided that it should be removed to save the other. When the operation was over and he recovered from the anaesthetic, it was discovered that the operator had blundered by removing the sound eye, so making the young man totally blind.
Notwithstanding this he undertook to pursue his studies in law at McGill. He was able to do this by the aid of his brother, William Stewart, who read to him and accompanied him through all the different phases of college life.
The blind brother came out at the head of his class, while the other came second. The latter practically making himself a seeing medium for his blind brother.
—Aquilla Webb
3211 Brother’s Prayer And Scotland’s Holiest Man
David and Robert McCheyne were Scottish brothers. Both had brilliant minds. There the resemblance ended.
David, the older, was quiet and studious. He spent most of his leisure time at home helping with family chores. David was also a devoted Christian, too much so in the opinion of Robert.
Once Robert came home from an evening of revelling and found David kneeling in prayer. “I heard you call my name, Dave,” he sneered. “Am I really that bad?”
The sensitive David tried to explain. “We’re all sinners who need to trust in Christ.” Robert shrugged and excused himself from the conversation.
The door of opportunity swung wide for Robert when he enrolled in the University of Edinburgh. His talents for languages, drawing, music, and poetry brought him many awards. His professors predicted greater fame ahead.
Back home David languished in illness. But he continued to pray for Robert until death silenced his lips.
And then Robert became a Christian. In the years ahead Robert’s star steadily rose until he became the most beloved Presbyterian minister in Scotland and the British Isles. At twenty-three he became pastor of the 4,000-member St. Peter’s Church of Dundee.
His ministry lasted only seven years (1836–1843). He became known as “the holiest man in Scotland.” His church was crowded hours ahead of time by people anxious to hear him explain the Scriptures.
A painful consumptive cough tortured his body during the last months of his life. Throughout his illness, and even in his dying delirium, he talked about the One whom his brother had helped him to love.
—Selected
3212 Brother Of Lincoln’s Assassin
In 1864, a crowded train was pulling away from Jersey City station when the son of President Lincoln, Robert, jumped aboard. The man lost balance and was falling when a man by the name of Edwin Booth reached out and grabbed him by the coat collar and saved him. Within a week, a letter of thanks came from Washington.
But within less than a year, this man became “Man of Mystery” as he was always in hiding, shameful that his brother, John Wilkes Booth, had killed Lincoln. It was months later that he got enough courage to appear again in his experienced role as an actor, and became recognized as the nation’s most able performer of Shakespearean roles. He was the first actor to have name and bust in the American Hall of Fame gallery in New York.
3213 Siamese Twins Die Together
From the news comes this write-up:
“In the world they made for themselves, Siamese twins Margaret and Mary Gibb were not only accustomed to their affliction. They came to prefer it. As adults they refused even to discuss the possibility of separation. To them, such a move would have seemed no less than amputation of a major limb. In recent weeks their condition haunted their physician, Dr. John Appel, because though Mary seemed entirely healthy, Margaret was suffering from rapidly spreading cancer. But the sisters did not change their view, and last week when Margaret’s cancer had spread to her lungs and heart, it had also spread to Mary. They died, at 54, within two minutes of each other.”
3214 Legend Of Two Hebrew Brothers
There is a beautiful Hebrew legend of two brothers who lived side by side on adjoining lands. One was the head of a large family, the other lived alone. One night, the former lay awake and thought: “My brother lives alone, he has not the companionship of wife and children to cheer his heart as I have. While he sleeps, I will carry some of my sheaves into his field.”
At the same hour, the other brother reasoned: “My brother has a large family, and his necessities are greater than mine. As he sleeps, I will put some of my sheaves on his side of the field.” Thus the two brothers went out, each carrying out his purposes and each laden with sheaves—and met at the dividing line. There they embraced.
Years later, at the very place stood the Jerusalem temple, and on the very spot of their meeting stood the temple’s altar.
3215 “Those We Love”
They say the world is round—and yet
I often think it’s square,
So many little hurts we get
From corners, here and there.
But there’s one truth in life I’ve found
While journeying East and West:
The only folks we really wound
Are those we love the best.
We flatter those we scarcely know;
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those we love the best.
—Selected
3216 “Thou Knowest I Love Thee”
This is how one dear man learned to love the Lord. He said: “One morning as I was going to work, I was thinking of the words, “Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?” and wished with all my heart that I could answer them as Peter did. I felt sad that I could not. Then this thought came to me, “Well if I cannot say so much as Peter, perhaps I could turn it around a little and find something easier.”
“So I began to think there was one thing I could not say. I could not say, “Lord, Thou knowest that I do not love Thee,” and I found some comfort in that. At last, I grew bold enough to look up and say, “Lord, Thou knowest that I want to love Thee.” Then I began to think of His great love for me. I thought of His life, of His words, of His cross, and almost before I knew what I was doing, I looked up and said, “Thou knowest that I do love Thee.”
“And at that moment the consciousness of forgiveness and a new life came into my heart!”
—Tom Olson