"Then you are the one that saved my cat," she said. "How can I thank you enough, Mademoiselle? For that cat is my one consolation. If you would be kind enough to visit me sometime, I would be so pleased to see you."
Paula looked at her in surprise, and said, "I will ask Teresa if we may come to see you." Which permission Teresa readily gave.
"It"s Louisa. I know her well. She has lived in that little hut for fifteen years. True, she is a bit weak in her head but she would never hurt a fly.
Speak to her of the Lord Jesus, Paula! It will do her good."
On the following Thursday, therefore, we went to visit her. As we left the house, Teresa handed us a jar of preserves, saying, "Give Louisa this. Poor thing! Not many good things have come into her life."
Louisa herself answered our knock, "Ah," she said, "please excuse the disorder. If I had known you were coming today I would have straightened things a bit. Sit down here, on this box, Mesdemoiselles. I am sorry that I have no chairs to offer you. Ah, here comes Cordero!" she continued, and we could hardly recognize the beautiful black cat that jumped purring into Paula"s lap, as the same cadaverous animal that was swinging around Joseph"s head a few days before.
"It"s my one friend," said the poor old woman, sitting down on another box.
"Do you believe that?" said Paula. "Can you not call us your friends? And there"s another friend who has sent you a present. Our Teresa sent this for you." She placed in the eager hands of the old woman the preserves.
"Is it for me? How can I thank you? For years everybody has made fun of me, for I never speak to anyone; preferring the company of animals to that of people."
Paula had such a sympathetic way of getting at people"s hearts, that instinctively she understood how lonely Louisa had been.
"By the way," said Paula, "this is for your cat"--and she put two cents on the table.
The old woman did not seem to understand.
"It"s for him, you know," said Paula, "you can buy some liver with this.
Surely Cordero likes liver!"
The pleasure in Louisa"s eyes was almost childlike, as she addressed her cat saying, "You must thank this good mademoiselle," and Cordero jumped down and rubbed against Paula in a most affectionate manner.
It was time to leave as the short day was ending and we had to be in the house before dark.
"How can I thank you, mademoiselle?" said Louisa. "Do come to see me soon again, even though I am a poor old woman who n.o.body loves."
"Oh, Louisa," exclaimed Paula, "there is One who loves you: don"t you know Him?"
Louisa shook her head sadly.
"No, n.o.body loves me. And to tell you the truth, I don"t love anyone else either."
"The Lord Jesus loves you, Louisa."
"The Lord Jesus? Tell me about Him, mademoiselle; I have heard the name--who is He?"
"The Lord Jesus is He who died on the cross, that you might go to Heaven.
He suffered much before He died. They despised Him. They beat Him. They spat in His face. Even His own friends deserted Him and He was so poor that He didn"t have any place at night to lay His head. Yet, He was G.o.d Himself.
He died for our sins--and He rose from the dead. He is now in Heaven, and He waits to receive you there, Louisa. None of us deserve to go to Heaven, but He who was so perfect suffered in our stead. He died for all of us sinners that we might be pardoned. I wish I could explain it better, much better, but Jesus loves you, Louisa. I know He loves you more than you could ever dream."
Louisa"s wrinkled face lighted with a smile; but she did not seem able to believe or comprehend this good news, which came to her, oh, so late in life.
"Oh, if it were only true," she murmured, as she clasped her hands together and her eyes filled with tears.
"But it is true, Louisa; don"t you believe it? See here, He knows very well you live here alone with your cat, and that you are so sad, and that you have n.o.body else to care for you. He wishes to be your Friend, and He will be if you will ask Him. Why not ask Him now, Louisa?"
"Oh, perhaps so, some day, mademoiselle."
"Do it now, Louisa."
"No, no; not now."
"Oh, why not now, Louisa?"
"Because I don"t understand very well, mademoiselle. How could G.o.d love me, a poor, forlorn, useless old woman, who never loved Him, nor served Him.
You come back again. Perhaps I"ll end up by understanding better. And now, good-bye, mesdemoiselles. I have delayed you both too long."
We shook hands with her. Oh, what a cold hand it was! The touch of it sent a shiver through me!
"Goodbye, Louisa," said Paula, and suddenly kissing her, she gave her a hearty embrace as well and added, "I am going to pray for you, dear Louisa." One could see that the poor old woman was greatly touched as she said simply: "Thank you, mademoiselle, thank you."
I had almost forgotten Louisa and her cat when a few days later a neighbor came in with a worried look asking for Teresa. When she appeared, the woman blurted out the news that Louisa was dying.
"Louisa dying? Nonsense, I saw her on the street yesterday."
"Perhaps so, for she dragged herself around until the last minute. But I knew she was ill, so I took her a cup of hot soup this morning. I found her in bed with a terrible cough, and now she can scarcely breathe. She keeps calling for Mademoiselle Paula."
"Have you sent for the doctor?"
"No; she"s afraid he"ll send her to the hospital and they"ll take away her cat."
Teresa shrugged her shoulders.
"I"ll go at once, and I"ll take Paula with me."
Murmuring her thanks, the woman left. "Can"t I go?" I said. "Oh, Teresa, please let me go too."
Teresa hesitated. "All right, come along!" she said at last.
Louisa"s neighbor had not exaggerated her condition. The poor woman was sitting up in her bed. Its thin covers could not protect her from the cold, and a terrible cough racked her thin frame. When, at times, the cough left her she would fall back on her pillow completely exhausted. It needed all Teresa"s efforts to restore her.
"My poor Louisa!" said Teresa tenderly.
"You were very good to come," said the neighbor who was staying as nurse.
"And Mademoiselle Paula?"
"Here she is. Come here, Paula."
And as Paula came near the bed, Louisa said with a weak voice. "Now I understand the love of G.o.d, for when you kissed me and embraced me, it was that kiss that made me understand that G.o.d loves even me. I will soon be far from the living, but I shall die in the arms of the Lord Jesus."
"Now, don"t cry," continued Louisa weakly, as she saw us all weeping. "My misfortunes have been my own fault. I was selfish, I wished to live alone without G.o.d and without hope. I have been abandoned. I have known what it was to be cold and hungry for many years; but the happiest time of my life has been these last three days. They began with your visit, Mademoiselle Paula. That afternoon I prayed, and I believe G.o.d had pity on me. I am sure of that."
Here Paula broke in: "You had better not talk any more now, Louisa. Your cough will come back--you are already too tired."