Digibron cookies

Voor optimale prestaties van de website gebruiken wij cookies. Overeenstemmig met de EU GDPR kunt u kiezen welke cookies u wilt toestaan.

Noodzakelijke en wettelijk toegestane cookies

Noodzakelijke en wettelijk toegestane cookies zijn verplicht om de basisfunctionaliteit van Digibron te kunnen gebruiken.

Optionele cookies

Onderstaande cookies zijn optioneel, maar verbeteren uw ervaring van Digibron.

Bekijk het origineel

The Raven’s Feather

Bekijk het origineel

+ Meer informatie

The Raven’s Feather

14 minuten leestijd Arcering uitzetten

Author Unknown

One afternoon in May of the year 1780, a boy stood on Blackfriars Bridge, London, with his eyes fixed on the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral. He was tidily but poorly clad, and looked pale, as if he were not getting enough to eat. And he was not. His father, a German mechanic, had come to London in search of employment. After much fruitless exertion he had been successful, but six months had not passed away when he died. The mother lay buried in a German grave, and poor Severin, the only child, was now alone in a foreign land. He had not tasted warm food for three days; his only meal had been a piece of bread given him by a kind-hearted baker. But Severin knew something which many did not — he had learned to pray, and it was this that sustained him in his present necessity. But it seemed as if God, amid the hundreds of this great city, had forgotten, and after feeding all the rest had nothing over for him. His heart sighed in his prayer, “O Lord, Thou hast made all things, and yet art so great and rich, and hast so much over that Thou canst make great churches like this St. Paul’s to be built, wilt Thou let me die of hunger? Again and again have I entreated Thy help; listen to me now this once!” While he was thus praying, a raven’s feather fell at his feet, he knew not from whence. It seemed to have fallen in answer to his prayer, and he at once remembered what is written in God’s Word concerning the ravens: “Who provideth for the raven his food, when his young ones cry unto God” (Job 38:41). “He giveth to the beast his food, and to the young ravens which cry” (Psalm 147:9). “Consider the ravens; for they neither sow nor reap; which neither have storehouse nor barn; and God feedeth them” (Luke 12:24). “Yes,” said Severin to himself, “God feeds the ravens, and can give them so much that they still have some over, else how could they have fed Elijah during the famine?” Then there darted into his mind other thoughts: “If God feeds the ravens why does He let me go hungry so long? But no! not a sparrow falls from the roof and not a hair from our heads without the will of God; and so with a raven’s feather.” With these words, which in the heat of the moment had been uttered half aloud, he picked up the feather, and, placing it in his hat, said, “I will keep it as a remembrance and never despair.”

He then set off to leave the bridge and made for Albion Street. The attention of a respectable man, who was crossing the bridge at that moment, was attracted by the boy speaking to himself in German, and he said to him in German, “Where do you come from?”

Severin hesitated. “I am a German,” he replied.

“I see that,” answered the stranger, “but are your parents here?”

“No, they are dead.”

“You have no home then?”

“No, and I am without bread, but not without hope.”

“Indeed! On what are you hoping?”

“On God.”

“In that case,” said the stranger, “you may come with me.” Severin at once complied. It was somewhat venturesome to follow an entire stranger, but Severin was firmly persuaded that help was now at hand in answer to his prayer, as if God had written it on parchment for him with the raven’s feather. They went up Surrey Street and turning to the left came to the house of the stranger. He was a carpet manufacturer and had lived many years in London, although born in Germany. He had married an Englishwoman and they had ten children, so that there was no little excitement when Severin was brought indoors. All clustered round to hear the story of how their father had heard Severin speaking to himself in German and how he had been so long without food. Needless to say he was soon given a good meal while he answered the many questions they put to him.

Michael, who was about Severin’s age, noticed the feather in his hat and asked what it meant. Then it was that Severin related how he had come by it, how he looked upon it as an answer to his prayer, an intimation that deliverance was at hand, which these events proved to be only too true. All listened with great astonishment, and Severin no less when he heard that the name of the man who had befriended him was Raven. But more was to come, for evidently in the interval, Mr. and Mrs. Raven had agreed to take Severin into the family — no great sacrifice, but rather a pleasure to adopt the poor stranger. There was great rejoicing among the children when it was announced that Severin was to stay and be regarded as one of the family, provided he conducted himself well. So now he was literally among a family of Ravens.

You can imagine a little how Severin felt, and how sincere were his thanks to God for this interposition on his behalf. Michael and he soon formed a very close friendship. Michael was intended for a merchant; but Severin had a strong bent for the business which his father had followed and was therefore anxious to have some opportunity of learning mechanics. To this Mr. Raven did not object, but he thought it better that Severin should first of all spend a year in the study of mathematics, and for this purpose found him a teacher. Having the ability and not wanting in diligence, he made good progress and gained the approval of both his teacher and foster-parents. He also won their affection by his obedient and modest behavior. After the lapse of a year he was apprenticed to a Mr. Ettwood who lived in King Street, at no great distance from Mr. Raven, so that Severin could still live with his adopted parents. In the meantime Michael was placed with a merchant whose shop was a considerable distance from home, and he could only visit his parents on the Sabbath. This, at first, he did very regularly, and with his customary frankness related the events of the week to his parents and Severin, in whom he placed the greatest confidence. By degrees, however, his visits became less frequent, and at last, as a thunderclap, there came to the ears of his parents the news that he had secretly run away, no one knew whither.

“Had I been told,” said Mr. Raven, “that a machine had broken down in the factory, or that one of my ships had foundered, I could have cast my eyes around my family group and thought I am still rich enough; but now, who will bring me my Michael again?”

“Your Father in heaven,” said Mr. Leutfried, a German friend who had hastened to comfort the afflicted parents.

“But my disobedient boy is walking in forbidden paths. Who will protect him there?”

“Our prayers,” replied Mr. Leutfried, “which we will offer with one voice to God; it may be He will hear our humble cry.”

“Yes,” replied the poor parents, “our help is in God alone; there is no other hope for us.”

Michael’s parents set on foot inquiries in every direction, hoping to find their lost son, and spared neither pains nor money. They discovered that several other young men had been missed from the neighborhood, but none could tell where they had gone. This sad disappearance, as might be thought, caused the other children to cling more closely to their parents, and Severin tried in every way he could to make up to his adopted parents for the loss. But they could never forget one so dear, and his place was kept open and ready as if he were daily expected home. A chair and a plate were set for him at every meal, and prayer was made continually.

One Sunday evening the family were assembled as usual for the Bible reading. The chapter was the story of the deluge. When they came to the verses in which we are told that Noah sent forth out of the ark a raven and a dove, and that the dove came back again, but the raven returned not again, it was as if the same thought struck them all at once, which the father expressed in words: “May God grant that our absent Raven may yet return to us again.” Just at that moment a knock was heard at the door. All sprang up and exclaimed with one voice, “Can it be Michael?” The door opened quickly and Mr. Leutfried entered. He was much surprised to find the family in such a state of excitement, and asked what was the matter. Mr. Raven told him what they had been reading and the thought which had struck them all.

“Sit down again quietly,” said Mr. Leutfried, “and let me tell you my thoughts. I once read the history of a man who had a great many children, but there was one among them whom he preferred and loved more than all the rest. Suddenly this favorite son was missing, and his father believed him dead. He mourned for him, yet at length after many years, the tidings reached him that his son was still alive and had become the first minister to a powerful king. May we not hope that we shall yet hear good tidings of Michael also?”

“Oh,” said Bobby, “I know about whom you are speaking; it was Joseph.”

“Quite right,” replied Mr. Leutfried, “it was Joseph I meant.”

“But Joseph’s case was very different from Michael’s,” said Mr. Raven. “Joseph did not go willingly. He was sold by his brothers, very much against his will.”

“How do you know that Michael may not have been taken away against his will?” asked Mr. Leutfried.

“Certainly I do not know that this may have been so with Michael,” said Mr. Raven, “but I think that in any case he might have found some means to let us know where he was.”

“But,” said Bobby, “neither did Joseph let his father know. I have sometimes wondered at this, because when he was in power he could easily have sent messengers of his own on camels to carry a letter and gifts to his father.”

And so this little family went on trying to find some ground of hope for their dear brother, not from a natural source, but from the things that God had been known to do before.

“Ah,” said Mr. Leutfried at length, “you have all forgotten one thing, the most important thing, too; that is, the purpose of God, whose will it was that all these things should happen exactly as they did.”

“That,” said Mr. Raven, “is the only safe ground we can stand on now to comfort us about Michael. All things must happen according to the Lord’s purpose, and when His time comes, I trust He will send us joyful tidings of our lost boy as He did to Jacob of old.” Here they separated for the night after singing a suitable hymn which Mr. Leutfried had thoughtfully brought with him.

As time passed the absence of Michael became less observed. But still his place was not filled even by Severin, who now had a place of his own in the group. This was so in two ways, for Mr. Raven had planted a tree for each child on the day he was born. These trees were arranged around a pond in the garden, and a little tablet was tied on each with the name of the one for whom it was planted. Severin had also been given one when he was taken into the family. But now, after this time, Mr. Raven had removed Michael’s tree to another part of the garden. Mr. Leutfried thought that this would kill the tree.

“Oh, no,” said Mr. Raven, “it will do it no harm if we lift a large enough ball of earth about the roots.”

“Indeed,” replied Mr. Leutfried, “then let us hope that our Michael may have carried away enough earth from his native garden to save him from perishing in his new place.”

“The tree will bear no fruit in the year in which it is transplanted,” said Mr. Raven.

“I believe that will be the case with Michael also,” said Mr. Leutfried. Although the prosperity of this tree could do no real good to poor Michael, the children could not help noticing that it continued green.

Severin had now served his apprenticeship, and the dreaded time drew near when he must leave the comfortable home and the much loved family circle into the midst of which God had so clearly led him. He had heard through Mr. Ettwood, his employer, that a brother of his father was living in Strasburg, in a good business as an engineer. Severin, having written to this unknown uncle, had received from him a kind and friendly answer with an invitation to come to Strasburg and work for him. It was too good an offer to be declined, Mr. Raven said; he could not but recommend his adopted son to go, however unwilling he was to lose him. Many tears were shed when the sad hour of separation came, and, as Severin promised to return as soon as he could, he asked Mr. Raven not to transplant his tree. “I shall never do that,” promised Mr. Raven, “so long as I hear you are continuing to walk in the right path. If I had known where Michael was, and that he was in a right path, I would not have transplanted his tree. May the Lord keep you, my dear Severin, that you may not fall into temptation, that you may not ‘stand in the way of sinners, nor sit in the seat of the scornful.’”

Severin embarked in a vessel for Dunkirk. From there he went through France on foot. It was just before the French Revolution broke out, and the whole country was in a state of confusion and excitement. He hurried as much as he could to get to a quieter place, for all that he heard and saw was extremely painful to him. When he heard the furious expressions and angry threats of the people against all established rule and saw their contempt for those in authority, he remembered the words of Scripture, in which all men are bidden “to be subject to the higher powers, for there is no power but of God; the powers that be are ordained of God,” and so on. Thus, by his early acquaintance with the Word of God, he was preserved from the infectious, wild, and rebellious spirit which had misled so many of the young men of his age.

After a journey of three weeks, he arrived late one evening at Nancy, in the neighborhood of Strasburg. The day before he had crossed the mountains, and when he had reached the last ridge before descending, he saw the old city with its beautiful minster-tower, lying at his feet, and could trace the windings of the noble Rhine, rolling its mighty waters through the beautiful plains of Germany. Beyond, his eyes rested for the first time in many years on the mountains of his fatherland, and his heart beat faster at the sight. Although he had no home in Germany and nothing was his but his mother’s grave, and although England had become his adopted country, very dear to him as the place where he had received so much kindness, the home of those who loved and prayed for him, yet here was the land where his fathers had lived and where he had received his first impressions and earliest instructions.

— to be continued —

Deze tekst is geautomatiseerd gemaakt en kan nog fouten bevatten. Digibron werkt voortdurend aan correctie. Klik voor het origineel door naar de pdf. Voor opmerkingen, vragen, informatie: contact.

Op Digibron -en alle daarin opgenomen content- is het databankrecht van toepassing. Gebruiksvoorwaarden. Data protection law applies to Digibron and the content of this database. Terms of use.

Bekijk de hele uitgave van maandag 1 augustus 1994

The Banner of Truth | 28 Pagina's

The Raven’s Feather

Bekijk de hele uitgave van maandag 1 augustus 1994

The Banner of Truth | 28 Pagina's