Every one smiled when his father carried him into the car—this little lad of three, who taught me so sweet a lesson in faith. The car was crowded, but there was a corner between the door and window where the child could stand, and there his father put him down.
“You stay still there, Herbie; Papa is going to stand near you. You won’t be afraid?”
The wee man shook his head very decidedly, and catching hold of a brass rail with his chubby fist, stood contentedly watching his father with trustful, happy eyes. At every corner new passengers came on, and crowded between father and child. Herbie was much more comfortable in the sheltered nook where his father had put him than he would have been even in his father’s arms on the crowded, jolting platform. Little by little, the newcomers hid the father from Herbie’s sight. He did not look like a child who was accustomed to being alone, and I watched him closely, ready to comfort if need be. I saw his lips moving, and bent toward him. This is what he said: “I can see my papa’s foot, and I can see my papa’s hand.”
Precious little heart, comforting itself!
The crowd jostled back and forth. I heard another whisper: “I can see my papa’s foot. I—can—see—my—papa’s—foot!”
Then the foot was no longer visible to the patient watcher. Trouble clouded his serious eyes for a minute, followed by a happy smile.
“I can hear my papa talk.”
Sure enough, the father was talking to someone. But the conversation was not long. The blue eyes were growing shadowy again.
“Herbie,” I whispered, “I can see your papa. I am taller than you. I can see your papa’s face, dear.”
For a brief space my face was subjected to a searching glance. Then the content came back to the boy’s face. He watched me, and I watched that other face, nodding assurance to my little friend. In a few moments the passengers began to leave the car, and the father sat down, and took his child on his knee.
“Were you afraid, Herbie?”
“No, I knew you were there all the whole time!”
Oh, for the faith of a little child, that whatever comes, the heart may say, “I was not afraid; for I knew that, all the time, Thou wert there!”—Selected.
The Youth’s Instructor, September 21, 1899.