| HE PAID THE PRICE! | |
 |
|
|
The Trumbels [death carts] clattered over Parisian streets bringing victims of the Reign of Terror by the droves to the crowded dungeons. One night in July, 1794, an old man roved about the dark prison among his prisoner comrades. He came upon a sleeping figure and there he looked searchingly. Could it be? Yes, it was - his own son! Unknown to the father, the son had been seized and brought to this despicable place. Overcome, the father sank down beside him, his father-heart mourning over the vile fate that had befallen his son. "What can I do to save him?" he thought. "We bear the same name," he mused. "Tomorrow I can answer for him and go to the guillotine in his place." Praying his son would not awaken, the father watched over him through the night. In the early hours of the morning, three soldiers stamped into the dungeon. One called, "Jean Simon de Loiserolle!" The father sprang to his feet and answered clearly: "Here!" On the way to the guillotine, they passed through the bureau where the names were stricken off. "Jean Simon de Loiserolle, age 37?" the soldier intoned. "That is my name," answered the old man quickly, "but my age is 73." "Stupid mistake!" muttered the soldier, "73 not 37!" Seizing a pen, he made the "correction" and the father went to the guillotine where all was soon over. The son awoke in the dungeon expecting momentarily to be called to his death. Finally a fellow-prisoner told him: "An old man watched beside you all night, and when the guard called your name this morning, he answered for you and went to his death." "But I am Jean Simon de Loiserolle," the son cried, but no one would listen. With bitter anguish, he realised his father had died for him. He waited, expecting to be called to his fate at any moment, but three days passed by, and with the execution of Robespierre, the Reign of Terror ended and the prisoners went free. And Jean Simon de Loiserolle, the son, solemnly vowed that every moment of his life should be worthy of his father's supreme sacrifice. There is One, JESUS CHRIST, Who died in our place. He took our sins upon Himself. Shall we not, too, resolve to be worthy of the price He paid for us? * * * * * There was One Who was willing to die in my stead
That a soul so unworthy might live, And the path to the cross He was willing to tread All the sins of my life to forgive! -Margaret N. Freeman [52 Soul-stirring Illustrations, Billy Apostolon, Bake Book House, Grand Rapids, Michigan 1965]. |
|
 |
|
