The Blessing of Cheerfulness'. 3
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How different it is when one is habitually cheerful! Wherever such a person goes, he carries gladness. He makes it easier for others to live. He puts encouragement into the heart of everyone he meets. When you ask after his health, he answers you in a happy, cheerful way that quickens your own pulse. He does not burden you with a list of complaints. He does not consider it necessary to tell you at breakfast how poorly he rested, how many hours he heard the clock strike during the night, or any of the details of his miserable condition this morning. He prefers only to speak of cheerful things, not staining the brightness of the morning for you with the recital of any of his own discomforts.
The cheerful man carries with him perpetually, in his presence and personality, an influence that acts upon others as summer warmth on the fields and forests. It wakes up and calls out the best that is in them. It makes them stronger, braver, and happier. Such a man makes a little spot of this world a lighter, brighter, warmer place for other people to live in. To meet him in the morning is to get inspiration which makes all the day's struggles and tasks easier. His hearty hand-shake puts a thrill of new vigor into your veins. A talking with him for a few minutes you feel an exhilaration of spirits, a quickening of energy, a renewal of zest and interest in living, and are ready for any duty or service.
The blessing of one such cheerful life in a home is immeasurable. It touches all the household with its calming, quieting influence. It allays the storms of perturbed feeling that are sure to sweep down from the mountains of worldly care and conflict, even upon the sheltered waters of home.
Besides the silent influence of cheerfulness, a man with such a spirit becomes an active force of good cheer wherever he goes. When he meets a discouraged neighbor, he does not fall in with the weak bemoaning, nor pityingly sympathize with the disheartenment. Sympathy is good, but it must do more than listen patiently to the recital of trouble; it must seek to put a little new strength into the sad and weary heart. Your truest and best friend may not take your burden away — but he makes you better able to bear it! This the cheerful man seeks always to do. He listens to human complainings, but tries to kindle new hope or courage in those who are bowed down. He goes into the home of sorrow, not merely to weep with those who weep, but to whisper some secret of comfort, which will make the mourners stronger to endure their grief. He meets other men who are bowing under heavy loads, and does not consider that he has done his whole duty to them when he has commiserated them on their hard condition — but seeks in some way to be helpful to them, to put a little fresh courage into their hearts.
The ministry of such cheerfulness along the years leaves blessing at every step. Its value in the lives of men is simply incalculable. It is well worth while to live such a life. Its crown of glory in the world to come will be very bright.
There is need always for such ministry. This world is full of disheartenment. For the majority of people life is not easy. "In the world you shall have trouble," is not too somber a prophecy to be spoken as we go out into life. All about us, any common day, there are sobbings of grief, groanings of overburdened hearts, cries of pain and anguish, from those who are in dark Gethsemanes. There is need always for human help.
It is not possible, ordinarily, to change the hard conditions of those who are in life's stress; but it is possible to give them brotherly sympathy and encouragement. The cup was not taken away from Jesus, but an angel from heaven appeared and strengthened him. No other ministry which human love can render is so angel-like as that of him who gives cheer. Those who have learned this lesson are indeed ministering spirits sent forth to do service for the sake of them who shall inherit salvation.
There is a beautiful legend which tells how, long centuries ago, in a somber forest, some moss began to grow. The sunshine warmed it, and it spread until it formed a soft, rich carpet of bright hue. One day, Jesus, coming out of the wilderness, passed through this old forest, with feet torn and bleeding from the rough way by which he had come. His path led over this carpet of moss; and as his bruised and weary feet walked on it they were soothed, refreshed, and rested by its gentle softness. Grateful for the comfort which he had received, Jesus, from his loving heart, uttered words which made the moss holy for all time: "You shall be blessed forever, o'er every plant that grows." Then forth from the green bosom of the moss, there sprang a perfect rose.
This is only a legend; but in its tender beauty we can get a sweet lesson—that the Christ honors always and everywhere the gentle thoughtfulness which makes the way easier for any tired one. We are in this world to bless others. If we can spread a carpet of moss for any bruised and weary feet, we are sure of the benediction of the Christ. Such sweet ministry we can render every day. Evermore Jesus is passing in the people of his little ones. The paths are rough, and feet bleed as they walk over them. He who lives to give cheer and hope and strength, will receive the Master's blessing.
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