To
spend well this one brief life of ours, we must be active
in doing good. This we have already learned. But not only
should we be active in doing good, but we should do the
good act when the act will be most helpful. Do the good
deed when the good deed needs to be done. The kind word
may be worth much and be greatly helpful to the fainting
soul today, but may be too late tomorrow. "As we have
therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men."
Will you stop a moment and think overt these words? Let no
opportunity of doing good go by you unimproved. To neglect
the present opportunity of doing good and then never be
able to do it is a sad thing.
"Of all sad words of tongue or pen
The saddest are these: 'It might have been."'
Why do you keep all the kind
thoughts and kind words for a man until he is dead? They
do him no good then. It is while he is living that he
needs them. He has burdens heavy to be borne; troubles
gather thick over his head; he is neglected and even
misrepresented. You can help him with a smile or a few
kind words; but, no, you pass him by. Now he is brought to
the grave. As the cold clods fall upon his plain coffin,
you say, "Well, he was a good man, after all."
Why did you not tell him that when he was living? It would
have buoyed up his spirit then; it would have made him
feel that life was not all in vain and that vet he might
do a little good. But now he hears not your words. They
return to you or float out into empty space a mere sound.
The ear that was once eager for them and the heart that
was aching for them is now cold in death. Your kind,
cheering words are too late to give him encouragement;
your flowers are too late to be appreciated. Once they
would have brightened his life, but now his life is over.
Once you could have chased away some clouds that were
darkening his life, but you did not, and that day has gone
into eternity as a day of darkness. You might have
brightened it. This morning some kind hand placed a vase
of beautiful flowers upon my desk. As I write, their
fragrance reaches me and brings me tidings of some one's
kind remembrance.
It costs but little to speak kind
words, but oh! ofttimes they are worth so much! I know of
nothing that costs so little to give that is so valuable
to receive. But why keep all the flowers, the kind words,
the tender feelings and thoughts, and the sympathetic
tears until the one to whom they should be given passes
away, and then come and let them fall so gently upon the
casket? Do you know of one who is weary? do you know of
one who is being misrepresented? do you know of one who is
being trodden by others, with scarcely any one to speak a
word of comfort? Now, what would Jesus do ? Look at poor
Lazarus—turned away by the rich, neglected and rejected:
watched over by angels ready to gather him to paradise
when he passes beyond the need of aid from men. Why not be
an angel and make a day of paradise for him here? Let us
do some angel work while here in life. The angels are
ministering spirits. They whisper, "Be of good
cheer," "Peace on earth." They come to
gladden hearts; they come to close the lions' mouths; they
come to open the prison doors and break the iron bands.
Oh, let us do some angel work!
Hast thou any flowers for me ?
Wilt thou kindly let them be
Given ere death be dews my brow ?
Wait not, give them to me now.
While in life's eventful day
Tired, and weary grows the way,
When in dark and lonely hour,
Give me then the cheering flow'r.
Hast thou kind words to impart,
Words that lift the fainting heart?
Speak ere Death's hand on me lay;
Speak those kind words now—today.
Kind words are but empty breath
To the heart that's still in death;
When life's load is hard to bear
Let me then the kind words hear.
Hast thou sunlit smiles to give,
Smiles that make us want to live ?
Ere I cross death's sullen stream,
On me let those bright smiles beam.
Smiles, what'er their power to save,
Can not penetrate the grave.
Ere I reach life's ending mile,
Give to me the sunlit smile.
Prayer can stay the trembling knee:
If thou hast but one for me,
Let it offered be today,
Ere the life-light fades away.
When my soul transcends the air,
I no more shall need thy prayer:
Let now, today, thy soul travail;
'Tis only now thy prayers avail.
"If I should die tonight,
My friends would call to mind with loving thought
Some kindly deed the icy hand had wrought,
Some gentle word the frozen lips had said,
Errands on which the willing feet had sped;
The memory of my selfishness and pride,
My hasty words, would all be put aside,
And so I should be loved and mourned tonight."
