The Crucifixion of Philip StrongSheldon, Charles M.
General
The Crucifixion of Philip Strong
Sheldon, Charles M.
Christian fiction
Never in all his life had Philip been so puzzled to know what to do with
a human being. Here was one, the strangest he had ever met, who had come
into his house; it is true he had been invited, but once within he had
invited himself to stay all night, and then had accused his entertainer
of living too extravagantly and called him an insincere preacher. Add to
all this the singular fact that he had declared his name to be "Brother
Man," and that he spoke with a calmness that was the very incarnation of
peace, and Philip's wonder reached its limit.
In response to his wife's appeal Philip rose abruptly and went to the
front door; he opened it, and a whirl of snow danced in. The wind had
changed, and the moan of a coming heavy storm was in the air.
The moment that he opened the door his strange guest also rose, and
putting on his hat he said, as he moved slowly toward the hall, "I must
be going. I thank you for your hospitality, madam."
Philip stood holding the door partly open. He was perplexed to know just
what to do or say.
"Where will you stay to-night? Where is your home?"
"My home is with my friends," replied the man. He laid his hand on the
door, opened it, and had stepped one foot out on the porch, when Philip,
seized with an impulse, laid his hand on his arm, gently but strongly
pulled him back into the hall, shut the door, and placed his back
against it.
"You cannot go out into this storm until I know whether you have a place
to go to for the night."
The man hesitated curiously, shuffled his feet on the mat, put his hand
up to his face, and passed it across his eyes with a gesture of great
weariness. There was a look of loneliness and of unknown sorrow about
his whole figure that touched Philip's keenly sensitive spirit
irresistibly. If the man was a little out of his right mind, he was
probably harmless. They could not turn him out into the night if he had
nowhere to go.
"Brother Man," said Philip, gently, "would you like to stay here
to-night? Have you anywhere else to stay?"
"You are afraid I will do harm. But no. See. Let us sit down."
He laid his hat on the table, resumed his seat and asked Philip for a
Bible. Philip handed him one. He opened it and read a chapter from the
Prophet Isaiah, and then; sitting in the chair, bowing his head between
his hands, he offered a prayer of such wonderful beauty and spiritual
refinement of expression that Mr. and Mrs. Strong listened with awed
astonishment.
When he had uttered the amen Mrs. Strong whispered to Philip, "Surely we
cannot shut him out with the storm. We will give him the spare room."
Philip said not a word. He at once built up a fire in the room, and in a
few moments invited the man into it.
"Brother Man," he said simply, "stay here as if this was your own house.
You are welcome for the night."
"Yes, heartily welcome," said Philip's wife, as if to make amends for
any doubts she had felt before.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account