Never
since he first came to the church till that hour
Had
the preacher held forth with such vigour and power,
As
with well-chosen words, and a wealth of detail,
He
told how Elijah has triumphed o'er Baal.
How
on Carmel, God-sent, he had taken his stand;
Till
the cloud from the sea rose, the size of a hand,
Till
he said, "Go, tell Ahab go down to the plain,
And
hake haste, there are sound of abundance of rain".
Long
and learnedly he dwelt on man's guilt since the fall,
Want
of faith, unbelief,
chief and blackest of all;
Had
not Christ made it plain we are sure to receive
All
the blessings we ask if we "only believe".
Then
the grand choir sung out in its most approved style,
"Every
prospect is pleasing, man only is vile;"
Then
the preacher's still voice hushed the tumult again,
As
he earnestly prayed that the land might have rain.
But
it came not; a day was appointed for prayer
In
the church: all the good folks were hastening there.
The
sun glared down red, brook and burn had run dry,
And
there was not a wisp of a cloud in the sky.
Unnoticed,
if seen, by that church-going throng
A
wee hunchback lassie walked briskly along,
While
others had sunshades, the day was so warm,
She'd
a big umbrella tucked under her arm.
The
preacher and wife passed the girl on the way,
He
with gold-headed cane, she with parasol gay;
"Poor
girl," the good lady was heard to declare,
"How
silly",but then she is scarcely all there.
"Oh,
you never can tell what these creatures will do",
Thought
the little hunch-back looking up at the two;
With
a look half of pity, half sorrow, and pain,
"My,
but these two will catch it when God sends the rain".
God
sent it that day, in full measure it fell,
As
the wee hunchback's big umbrella could tell.
The
preacher, his lady, and all who were there,
Got
as much as they'd prayed for with something to spare.
The
pulpit did all that a pulpit might d,
There
were choice thoughts expressed, earnest, solemn and true;
But
I question if any but God ever knew
Of
that one prayer in faith those up from the pew.
Take
your big umbrellas, the lesson is plain
Like
the wee hunchback girl, when you're praying for rain.
Inspector
Aitken
It
seems likely this was Inspector Aitken who
served with the G. & S. W. Railway, Greenock at the end of the
nineteenth century. He had poems published in the Dundee Courier.
Have you got umbrella faith?
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