"I am so glad that you are going to help
Billy. I saw him the other day, and feel sure that you can bring him
around all right. I shall come over often to assist you, and I know that
many will find the same dear Friend in whom you are rejoicing tonight.

"How wonderfully has the Lord's hand been guiding since first I saw
Rosa that cold December day; and the end is not yet!"

For several minutes the little company sat in silence, each one buried
in thoughts too deep and sacred to find expression in words.

Presently Rosa lifted her head from the doctor's shoulder, her lustrous
eyes becoming more luminous than ever, as she said:

"Oh, how glad I am that I have found the way to the beautiful land!
Mother's there, and don't cough no more. Grandpa's there, and we're all
going some day, 'cause Jesus paid the fare a long time ago!"

AFTERWORD.

One bitterly cold December day, while riding in a streetcar in a large
city, a frail-looking little girl, bending beneath the weight of a huge
package, entered the car, sitting directly in front of me. She was
thinly, though neatly, clad. Her pale face was overshadowed by an
expression of care far too old for her baby shoulders, while her eyes
were large, dark, and pathetically wistful.

There was something irresistible about her whole appearance, impelling
me to cross the aisle and sit down by her side.

She told me that her name was Rosa, and the conversation which followed,
suggested the story, "ROSA'S QUEST."

I asked her if she knew anything about Jesus. To this she replied:

"Not much, ma'am, but it seems like I've heard just a little."

Of heaven and the way of salvation she was as ignorant as a child in the
wilds of Africa. The sad expression of her face did not alter till I
quoted John 3:16, then looking up with a smile she said:

"Ain't that pretty?"

For some time we talked, her hungry soul eagerly drinking in the old,
old story, but to her so new.

Suddenly she left the car, and with a sense of deep depression, I saw
her disappear amid a great, seething mass of humanity.

If she has not succumbed to the hardships of poverty, she probably is
still toiling on in that proud "Christian" city, and has any one taught
her more of Jesus than she knew that day?

Who will be responsible for these lost souls, constantly coming into
contact with those who profess to know the Lord?

Why is it that so many Christians view life from an inverted standpoint,
atta