determined to do all I could for poor Polly
and her child through that sorrowful night. I felt so grateful to the
Lord Jesus Christ for all He had done for me, and I was very glad to be
able to do any little thing to show my love to Him. It seemed to me
then, and it seems to me still, that the way in which we can please Him
best is by showing kindness to His children. I remembered a verse about
a cup of cold water being noticed by Him, if given for His sake, and I
thought to myself, 'Polly is not in need of cold water, for she is too
cold already, but I might make her a cup of tea.'

The fire was out, and the little kitchen, which was usually so neat, was
all in confusion. I lighted the lamp that I might see what I was about,
and then I tried to put the little place in order. First I found sticks
and coal, and lighted a fire; then, whilst my fire was burning up, I
cleared the table, carried the dirty plates and cups into the small back
kitchen, found a tablecloth and a clean cup and saucer, and filled the
kettle. As soon as the fire was hot enough I put the kettle on, and
cutting a slice from the loaf I made some nice crisp toast, such as my
aunt used to like when she was ill. Then I heated a plate, and buttered
the toast, and set it down by the fire. By this time the kettle was
boiling and I made the tea, and I said in my heart when all was
finished, 'Lord Jesus, I do this for Thee.'

Then I went upstairs to my hardest task of all, namely, to persuade
Polly to come down to eat the little meal I had prepared.

Polly was, as I had expected, most unwilling to leave the child, and at
first she firmly declined to move, and would not listen to my pleading
words. Yet I could see that she was almost fainting, and I knew that she
would need all the strength that she could muster for the night which
lay before us. Who knew what that night would bring?

I therefore spoke to her very firmly, telling her that I was willing and
anxious to help her in her trouble, but that, if I was to be any use to
her, she must not refuse to go downstairs for a few minutes at least,
and I promised her to watch little John very carefully, and to call her
at once if I saw any change in the child. She obeyed me at last, and I
heard her weary footsteps descending the steep stairs.

When I was left alone, I saw that Polly's Bible was lying open by the
little oil-lamp which stood on the table, upon which had been placed the
medicine and milk for litt