affliction

 "There never was such affliction as mine," said a poor sufferer, restlessly tossing on a sick bed, in a city hospital. "I don't think there ever was such a racking pain." "Once," was faintly uttered from the next bed. The first speaker paused for a moment, and then began, in a still more impatient tone: "Nobody knows what I pass through; nobody ever suffered more pain." "One," was again whispered from the adjoining bed. "I take it you mean yourself, poor soul! but — Oh! not myself — not myself," exclaimed the other, her pale face flushing as if some wrong had been offered, not to herself but to another. There was a short pause, and then the sweet, gentle voice uttered the sacred words, "When they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it upon His head, and a reed in His right hand: and they bowed the knee before Him, and mocked Him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews! And they spit upon Him, and took the reed, and smote Him on the head. And when they came unto a place called Golgotha, they gave Him vinegar to drink, mingled with gall. And they crucified Him. And, about the ninth hour, Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying: My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" The voice ceased, and the nurse handed a cup of barley water, flavoured with a grateful acid, to the lips of both sufferers. "Thank you, nurse," said the last speaker. "They gave Him gall to eat, and vinegar to drink." "She is talking about Jesus," said the other sick woman, "but talking about His sufferings can't mend mine." "But it lightens hers," said the nurse. "I wonder how?" Hush!" said the nurse. The gentle voice began: "Surely He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows. He was wounded for our transgressions; He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed." Verily, even in the midst of affliction and suffering God's true children will learn to glorify Him.

(J. N. Norton.)