Greater Love

By Violet L. M. Curtis

For years Peter had been Nat’s enemy—ever since Nat had thrashed him for torturing a cat. Peter vowed revenge, and as they grew up together, tried in many ways to get even with Nat. Both boys lived in a little fishing village on the wave-washed shores of Newfoundland. As they grew into young manhood, both chose fishing as their occupation. Keen competition was displayed, for neither cared to have the other known as a better fisherman.

Then one day a comely, witty young woman named Anne, and her parents, came to live in this village. Her father was a fisherman too. Nat and Peter became friendly with her and were once again competitors—this time for the young woman’s affections. Anne liked both of them; for a time it was a question as to which she would choose. Anxious hours both Nat and Peter spent until finally Anne made her choice. Nat was the favored suitor. Again Peter was incensed against Nat and renewed his vow of revenge. But the happy bride and groom knew nothing of the fire of hatred that was burning within Peter’s breast.

The night of the wedding a large new moon shed a radiant luster over the little fishing hamlet and the great ocean that washed its shores. The little white church on the hill was crowded with people all eager to see the happy couple united in marriage. But Peter was not there. On a rocky shelf overlooking the peaceful, moonlit sea he stood and vowed that he would get even with Nat.

The newlyweds spent several days holidaying, and then settled in a pretty little vine-covered cottage near the beach. Peter went to sea.

Several years passed, and then a curly-haired boy came to gladden his parents’ hearts. Nat spent all his spare moments with the young Nat, “the li’l shaver,” as they called him. Sometimes Nat would tell him stories of the sea, but Anne did not like his tales. Often she would shake her head in disapproval, but little Nat always clamored for more. As he grew up, he became possessed of a deep longing to sail across the ocean and see some of the world. Often when the weather was not stormy, he accompanied his father to the fishing grounds. At these times he would sit dreamy-eyed in the bow of the boat, looking away across the water, longing with all the fervor of his passionate soul to sail afar.

As Anne would stand in the door of the cottage waving goodbye to her “two men,” she would wonder how she could draw the curly-haired little lad’s interest from distant lands. But always when he returned, he was more enthusiastic than ever to sail on the sea’s broad bosom. At night as he lay in his bed, he would listen to the waves washing over the stones and singing a sweet lullaby. Or sometimes he would hear great reefers break in upon the rocks. Always the sea lured him.

He completed his education in the village school and turned to helping his father at fishing; yet his parents knew that his heart was out on the great sea. One day he came to Anne and said, “Mother, I must go. Please give me your permission.” She, looking down into his eyes, saw love and affection written there, as well as burning desire.

“Yes, Nat, you may go,” she answered, trying to speak calmly.

“Thank you, Mother,” he said, and enveloped her in his strong, young arms.

It was a sad day when he left. Even the wind, as it moaned through the leaves, seemed sorry. But with brave smiles and tearful eyes, Anne and Nat said good-bye to “the li’l shaver.” Young Nat, on reaching the large seaport two hundred miles from his home, signed on a vessel bound for England.

After several days at sea, he wondered why he was getting all the hard and unpleasant tasks, for he was sure that he was not the only “greenhorn” on board. Then he discovered that the captain was none other than Peter, the old enemy and one-time rival of his father. And Peter was working out his revenge! During the voyage, he seemed to vent all his spite on the boy. He worked him so hard, spoke to him so very harshly, and made his life so miserable that young Nat decided he would “sign off” when he got back to port again.

On the return voyage, the boat ran into a fierce storm, such as only the Atlantic Ocean knows. Thunder roared, rain poured down in a steady sheet, fog enveloped them, and huge whitecaps beat at the ship’s side. Nat, who was working on deck, was washed overboard. The fierceness of the storm would not permit a rescue; so the boat plowed on without him.

When the ship arrived in port, one of his shipmates went to Anne and Nat Senior and told the story, adding, “He didn’t need to be on deck, but the captain, who for some reason didn’t like him, said he must stay around and help out.” Anne, crushed by the blow, fell ill. Nat felt a great hatred for Peter spring up in his heart, but he tried to conceal it from Anne. Two days and nights he stayed by her side as she went down into the valley of the shadow of death. Those days were filled with heartache as he saw his beloved slip from him. The hatred he held for Peter grew. After days of suffering, Anne whispered goodbye and was gone from his life forever.

Nat was left alone to think over the happy days when he and Anne and “the li’l shaver” were all together in the little home. Somehow hatred could not abide with thoughts of those happy days; yet that happy home was broken because of one man. Many and varied were his feelings. Sometimes he could forgive and forget Peter, and then a sense of his loss would rush over him, and he would feel the old hate again. It is not right that I should hate so, he thought. Fervently he prayed that he might overcome the bitterness in his heart; yet often it came over him, and he felt himself unable to cope with it.

And then the storm came! The furious wind lashed the waves into strands and cast them into the air with a deafening roar. Sleet and snow filled the atmosphere, veiling the face of the sun from the fury of the elements. On into the night the storm continued. Many hearts sent up prayers of earnest entreaty through the long, dark hours for those in peril on the sea.

At daybreak the anxious fishermen peered through their windows out toward the wild, tossing ocean. A cry went up in every home. “A boat! Shipwreck!” the men dashed into their oilskins. Soon a group of hardy seamen were endeavoring to launch a boat, but the wind, hooting in derision, tore it from them, and the huge billows quickly demolished it. In sorrow they returned to their homes to pray for a lull in the tempest.

Two hours passed. At last two boats were launched. Nat jumped into one. Pulling heavily in the swell of the sea against the furious waves, the men reached the doomed ship. Then began the dangerous and arduous task of getting the crew into the boats before the ship sank forever into the boiling waters. One boat was filled and pushed off toward shore. Nat’s boat was left to take off the remainder of the crew.

The struggle against the vicious sea continued. Finally the deck was cleared and the rescue boat could hold no more.

“Pull aft!” shouted Nat.

“Wait! The skipper is sick down below,” shouted the fireman.

“Then pull for’ard,” yelled Nat, as he prepared to leave the rescue boat. The craft pulled alongside; he leaped aboard and made for the captain’s cabin.

“Hello!” he shouted.

“Yes,” came a faint reply, “I’m here on the bunk.”

Tenderly Nat lifted the sick man into his arms and hastened through the door. Once there, he stopped short, for in the gray light he recognized the face of Peter. A tide of feelings surged over him. Again he saw his wife suffer and die because of Peter’s cruelty to “the li’l shaver.” Hatred, black hatred, was in his eyes. Now he would be revenged. Then his eyes softened, and he hurried toward the waiting boat, bearing the heavy form of the captain.

“Easy now, men,” he commanded, as the sailors lifted the sick captain into the boat. “All right? Pull away!”

“Oh, no, Nat. There’s room for you here,” they urged. “

No,” Nat answered, “the boat’ll sink with a pound more weight. Pull away!”

It was useless to argue, and to delay was disastrous, for the ship was fast settling on its starboard side. With heavy hearts and unwilling hands the sailors pulled away. They had gone only a few hundred yards when the ship settled for its final plunge and quietly slipped off the rock into the icy depths, bearing Nat with it.

Several days later the captain recovered from the shock and exposure to discover that it was Nat who had given his life to save him. Tears rolled down his rough cheeks, and he bowed his head in shame. “Forgive, O Lord,” he prayed, “even as he forgave.” In the village graveyard beside Anne’s grave, Peter placed a stone bearing the inscription:

“NAT MERCER ‘Greater love hath no man than this.’ He laid down his life for an enemy.”

8 But think about this: while we were wasting our lives in sin, God revealed His powerful love to us in a tangible display—the Anointed One died for us. 9 As a result, the blood of Jesus has made us right with God now, and certainly we will be rescued by Him from God’s wrath in the future. 10 If we were in the heat of combat with God when His Son reconciled us by laying down His life, then how much more will we be saved by Jesus’ resurrection life? 11 In fact, we stand now reconciled and at peace with God. That’s why we celebrate in God through our Lord Jesus, the Anointed. Romans 5:8-11 (Voice)

“Greater Love,” by Violet L. M. Curtis. Originally published in The Youth’s Instructor, September 15, 1942, 5, 13, accessed February 20, 2012, http://www.adventistarchives.org/docs/YI/YI19420915-V90-37__C.pdf. Reprinted by permission of the author.