A mother always remains in our memory. Even when already old and grey, our thoughts carry us back to our youth and childhood years. In all the pictures of our memory, one person has a special place: our mother.
So it was with Brother K. When I visited him, he was well into his eighties and often reflected back on his life. I asked him about how he had found the Lord, and he told me the following story:
“My mother trusted God. We were very poor, but my mother believed in God. Shortly after I was born, my dad died, and she was left alone with us children. It was not easy. Often there seemed to be no way out, but God never forsook us. Mother held fast to the Word of God and clung to her faith in her heavenly Father. I could tell you many stories, but I will just tell you one that I can still remember so clearly.
In Russia, we lived at the outer edge of the village. As a result, beggars often made their last stop at our place before leaving the village. If no one had given them anything, our mother would still find something to give.
I can still vividly remember that evening. The sun was setting. That day, our supper had been very meager, and when we were finished eating and had said our customary prayer of thanks, only half a loaf of bread was left on the table. It was the last of what we had. We had no more potatoes, no flour, no other supplies in the house.
There, a knock! It was a beggar, asking for food. Mother asked him in and showed him to the table. He sat down and began to eat. Suddenly I burst out: ‘Mother, he’s eating everything!’ – ‘Be quiet, son,’ was her answer. – ‘But mother, he is eating everything! What’s left for tomorrow?’ – ‘Son, I’ve told you many times, God will take care of tomorrow.’ – ‘Yes, but….’ – ‘Quiet!’ – ‘No, mother, but I’ll be hungry!’ And again, my mother replied, ‘Until now, the Lord has never forsaken us.’ But I couldn’t restrain myself. ‘I know, Mother. God will give us something again, but not tomorrow morning. And you know, I want something to eat tomorrow morning.’
In the meantime, the beggar had finished eating the little bread. The table was empty. He sat quietly and didn’t say a word. My mother severely rejected my last argument: ‘Child, I do not want to hear anything more. God will take care of us.’
At that moment, there was a knock on the door. After saying, ‘Come in,’ two soldiers entered the room. All our eyes were on them. Our mother immediately said: ‘Today I can’t buy anything.’ Each of the soldiers had a loaf of bread in their hands. ‘Go on, I have no money today.’ One of them replied, ‘No, we do not want to sell anything. We have heard that sometimes there is a need here. You have many children. Here, take these breads. We want to give them to you!’
It all happened so fast. How could this be?! – Mother silently took the bread and said, ‘Thank you!’ The men had already left the house. We were speechless. The beggar was still sitting at the table with eyes wide open.
Mother broke the silence: ‘You see, did I not tell you: God will take care of us?! Earlier we only had half a loaf, and now we have two whole loaves. See, the Lord knows us and has not forgotten us!’
I immigrated to Canada. Mother died shortly after. But here in Canada, my mother’s faith still admonished me. My life was not right, and I was on a worldly, sin-filled path. But then God gave me an opportunity to find the cross and my Savior.
The godly example of my mother, her prayers, her faith, and her life with God remain in my memory, and I know I will see her soon and meet her again before the throne of the Lamb, with all the redeemed.”
H. D. Nimz
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