The Salvationist

A MAN has to know that there is a Hand to hold to, Something beyond himself. Yes, sir! I remember how it was in England, and I remember the man I called the Salvationist.

Things were slow in London. Millions of people everywhere one went, trains and buses packed and the stifling heat of summer, and everybody but oneself seemed to have business or work to go to. There I was — walking, walking, asking here and there, and getting the same answer: Nobody wanted. I tried to realize that there were thousands like myself, but I could n’t. I seemed out of place and alone. It seemed to me it was my fault.

At the close of day I would return home to Maggie. She was so ready with encouragement that it bothered me. She would look in my face before I had said a word, and then begin encouraging me. Things were very bad with us. How to get a loaf of bread with no money? How to get tea dust and milk with no pence?

It was the same with Harry, my friend, except that he seemed happier about things, somehow. He got me to join the Salvation Army. He said it would make me happy. In a way, it did. After the midweek meeting I could hang around with Harry and not go home to Maggie for a long time. Harry would tell me about the ‘luv o’ Gawd.’ It sounded fine the way he told it. Besides, I did n’t think so much when I was listening.

Then, when we parted, he’d ask, ‘Jack, where yer going ter-morrer?’ And then we’d plan to start early for a fifteenor twenty-mile walk to find work. It never sounded bad to hear Harry plan it. So, when I’d get home to Maggie, I’d tell her what Harry said, and we’d both feel comforted.

Sometimes, though, I’d wake in the night and wish I had the feeling Harry had so deep and true. But when the morning would come I’d be eager to be off with him.

I remember the time we walked to Saffron Walden. We had found out there was some work going ahead there, and it was only forty miles away. I remember, as we drew near Epping, Harry was humming and singing the marches that we’d learned in the ‘Band.’ I was silent and tired. He looked at me sharply and said, ‘Come on, now, strike up a tune yerself!’

I did n’t want to, but he was so insistent that after a time I had to fall in with the idea, and on we went, singing some old favorite. I fancied my voice in those days. It gave me a kind of pleasure to hear it ringing out above Harry’s there on the road. I remember we sang ‘Rock of Ages,’ because we both knew it.

All of a sudden I saw that, while I got happiness out of singing, Harry was happy because he believed what we sang. I wished I could feel that way. His face was shining and his eyes were bright. It was as if he knew where he was going and liked it. It made me feel poor.

Then he’d laugh and look up at the sky and take a deep breath and shout, ‘It’s free, Jack! Free as ever was!’ and breathe again. So we would walk on. When it would get hard to walk much more, Harry would stop and look about him, like a man seeing the place for the first time.

‘Jack, don’t yer think we should pray and give thanks?’ he’d say. ‘Let’s step over this stile and kneel in them rich meadows and thank Gawd!’

I could not find words to speak, but I would kneel with him, and when we’d get up I’d be rested. Maybe it was listening to him. You see, he believed that Christ walked with him. I could see that he honestly believed that. In a way of speaking, I took my faith secondhand. I trusted Harry. Anybody would, seeing him so happy in the face of things.

‘“Rock of Ages, cleft for me!”’ he’d shout. ‘Go on, now, Jack, sing up, old fellow!’ And so I would. ‘“Let me hide myself in Thee!”’

Harry believed, and I could see that he did hide himself in God. He never said so, but I knew that he wanted me in the same refuge, the same hiding place.

Then we came to Saffron Walden. Sure enough, there was work for us. I thought, ‘Harry will certainly be a happy man now. His faith has proved itself.’ I remember how surprised I was when I saw that he was n’t any more pleased than he had been during the walk there.

‘Wat did I tell yer?’ he laughed, when I explained my surprise. ‘ Gawd was good afore we started just the same as now. Difference is, I knowed it then!’

That’s when I started calling him the Salvationist. He was born one.