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Thank God for the repetition of that confession he had made in the recovery room, because,
before the sun went down that evening, Ben had gone to meet his newly found Saviour.
My next patient was a dear Gentile lady -- the wife of a Nazarene preacher. She was in
great despondency and very nervous. The devil knows just how to attack and when -- when the
body is worn with disease and weariness. Preachers' wives help their husbands carry the burdens
of the whole church and it was proving to be too much for this precious little soul. I could see she
was a faithful child of God and that she loved the Lord, but Satan had been lying to her, and she
had gone down under it physically. I had a gracious time with her. When I left she was praising the
Lord, for her faith in His promises had been restored, and she could see that she stood by grace
alone. She could praise God for even this illness that had brought her to the hospital.
From this patient I went out to the City Hospital to visit an elderly man who was dying with
cancer of the throat. The City Hospital is for the indigent, the poor. The ward to which I went held
about thirty patients. Beds were placed very close to one another. I did not see how any sanitary
methods could be carried out there. Nevertheless, it is a good hospital.
Every time I had gone to see this man with throat cancer I noticed a Chinese man in the
corner of the ward. There was something so clean about him that it gripped my heart. A
compassion for him was born within me. On this day I saw him get out of his bed in his pajamas
and start to shuffle barefooted towards the washroom. At the same time I noticed broken glass on
the floor, so I hurried over and stopped him while I tried to pick up what glass I could and brush
back what I could. He went on to the washroom, and I said to the nurse, "How is it that there is
broken glass all over the floor? This ought to be cleaned up."
"O," she said, "we dropped a test tube and thought sure we had cleaned up all the glass."
"Besides," I continued, "that man is walking around barefooted. Why doesn't he have
bedroom slippers on his feet?"
"Look, lady," she said condescendingly, "this is the City Hospital. We're doing well to
provide him with medical care and pajamas. We can't afford to be buying him bedroom slippers.
As far as I know he hasn't got a penny to his name. I've been here three months and I don't think he's
even got a friend. I've never seen anyone visit him. And he doesn't speak a word of English."
Compassion for this man grew in my heart. The Holy Spirit whispered to me, "Buy him a
pair of bedroom slippers."
I went out into the corridor and looked into my billfold. I had just one dollar. "Lord," I
reminded Him, "I can't spend this dollar on a Chinese man. You sent this to me to be used for
Jewish people."
But the Lord very sweetly, tenderly, and gently rebuked me. "My child," He said, "do you
think I love the Jews better than I love this Chinese man? Go buy him a pair of bedroom slippers."