Humility

LOUISE KNIGHT WHEATLEY

When Andrew found the Christ, so long ago,
He went to where his brother, on the sand,
Mended the nets, and, Come with me, he said,
A wondrous thing hath happened! Hand in hand
They hurried back until they reached the place
Where Jesus sat. This is the Christ, he cried,
And then, with tears of gladness, turned away.
It was enough. He well might step aside,
For Andrew's part was done, his work complete—
There sat his brother at the Master's feet!

He must have stayed a moment, just to note
The rapture on his brother's upturned face,
His eager voice, the Master's low replies.
And then methinks he softly left the place,
Content to be forgotten; asking naught
But just that he might help some other one
To find the Christ. Oh, rare humility!
The sweetest part, indeed, when all was done,
The crowning glory of that golden day,
Was that he knew 'twere best to slip away.

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