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During our Civil War word came to a mother that her boy had been wounded. She found her way to the hospital at the front. The doctor said to her, “Your boy is fast asleep. If you go in and wake him the excitement will kill him. By and by, when he wakes, I will break the news to him gradually.” The mother, with her great hungry heart yearning to see her boy, looked into the doctor’s face and said, “He may never waken. If you will let me sit by his side I promise not to speak to him.” The doctor consented. She crept to the side of the cot and looked into the face of her boy. How she longed to embrace him! She could not resist laying her gentle loving hand on his forehead. The moment her finger touched the boy’s brow his lips moved and he whispered, without opening his eyes, “Mother, you have come.” Even in his sleep he knew that touch of love.
The human touch on lives that need comfort, healing, and blessing, carries wonderful power. But shall we not bow our heads for the touch of Christ himself? He lays his hand gently and lovingly upon our brow. Some of us may be in sorrow; some are in car; some have their burdens. But do you not recognize that soft touch of Christ’s hand, the hand that the nail pierced? May the touch give joy and blessing to every one!