The Widow's Prayer Answered.

A correspondent of the Tract Magazine gives

the following account as she had it from the

lips of a pious widow of her acquaintance:

"One evening we were eating our supper, we

had nothing but bread, and of that not sufficient

to satisfy our hunger. 'Mother,' said little

John, when he was finishing his last morsel,

What shall we do to-morrow morning? There

is no bread in the house; we shall have no

breakfast.' I answered him, 'Do not fear John,

God has not forsaken us; let us pray to him,

and be assured he will remember us.' I made

him kneel down by my side, and prayed to

God that he would in his goodness have pity

upon us, and give us bread for the morrow. I

then put my child to bed, telling him to go to

sleep quietly, and to depend upon his God, who

never forgot those who put their trust in him.

I myself went to bed, firmly believing that my

God had heard my prayer, and commending

myself to the protection of our Lord Jesus

Christ, I slept comfortably until four in the

morning, when John woke me; 'Mother,' said

he,' is the bread come?' Poor little fellow!

He had but a scanty supper, and was very


'No,' I answered, 'it is not yet come,

but be quiet, and go to sleep again; it will

come. 'We both went to sleep; I was awakened

a little before six in the morning, by some

one rapping at my window. 'Dame Bartlet,'

said a woman, 'you must get up immediately,

Mrs. Martin's dairy-maid is taken very ill, and

you must come and milk her cows;' here then

was bread for us. I went to Mrs. Martin's, and

milked her cows, and afterwards sat down in

the kitchen to breakfast; but I thought of my

child, and could not eat. Mrs. Martin observing

me, said, 'You do not eat your breakfast,

Dame Bartlet.' I thanked her, and told her I

had left a little boy at home in bed, very hungry;

if she would permit me, I should prefer

carrying my breakfast home to him. 'Eat your

breakfast now,' was the kind answer of Mrs.

Martin; 'you shall carry some breakfast home

to your little boy besides.' Mrs. Martin then

gave me a basket of provisions, sufficient for

myself and child for two or three days. As I

returned home, I could not but thank my God,

and feel grateful to him, and my kind


I rejoiced my little boy's heart by a

sight of my breakfast. He got up directly, eager

to partake of Mrs. Martin's kindness: after

a good breakfast I made him kneel down again

by my side, whilst I returned thanks to our

gracious God, who had heard our prayers the

evening before, and who had given us a kind

benefactress. When we rose, I took him in my

lap, and said to him, 'Now, John, I hope what

has happened to us will be remembered by you

through your whole life. Last evening we had

eaten all our bread we had none left for this

morning; but we prayed to God that through

his mercy, and for the sake of his Son Jesus

Christ, he would give us our daily bread. God

has heard us, and has given us bread; may this

teach you through life to put your trust and

faith in your heavenly Father. I most earnestly

pray to God that you may never forget this.''

Dame Bartlet concluded her narrative by adding,

"And, madam, I have never wanted bread

since. I am blessed in my son, who is now a

man; he is dutiful and good to me, and has

never forgotten the pains his mother took with

him in his childhood, nor the exhortation I then

gave him to ‘trust in God.'"