In our travels lately we have become indebted for some profitable suggestions and lessons to that individual in the hotel known as the
Elevator Man.
Sometimes this personage is a boy, and then we miss what we now refer
to. The elevator of the hostelry we speak of has to be a middle-aged
individual to represent the spirit or spirits of which we write.
In the first place they are almost without exception gloomy men, and
seem to be soured. This may be accounted for in part by the confined
atmosphere they breathe, the monotony of the service they perform, and
the awkwardness, ignorance and unreasonableness of many of the
passengers they have to deal with, year in and year out, in their long,
narrow, vertical box called the elevator shaft.
Then it must not be forgotten that they live an up and down life, and this
must necessarily affect the spirits. And still again, in the true sense of the word, they never get anywhere. They are always coming back to the point from which they first started. This must in time produce a kind of mental gloom.
Among our sad elevator friends we recently met one who, in addition to
woes that properly belong to his class, was very much burdened about
the weather outside.
Now, as he roomed in the hotel, and when he was not in the elevator was
in bed, and hardly ever out doors, it seemed to us that he had a needless
load on his spirit.
But the worry was there on his mind and heart just the same. And no
matter when we put foot in the little iron barred cage he would open up
on us with a series of anxious questions about the weather, or indulge in a
flow of lamentations over the state of things outside, if there happened to
be rain, sleet, snow or mud.
He would ask every one who entered the elevator how the weather was
doing now, with the accent on the word now, as if it was cutting up and
misbehaving because he was not outside to regulate it.
When told it was raining or snowing, he would groan and say he did not
know what would become of us. He seemed to feel as if he was
responsible for it all; and also dreaded a kind of general ruin if a change
from present conditions did not speedily occur.
When we would report that it was bright and sunshiny without, he would
sigh and say that he was confident it would not last long. That he never
knew it to fail, that if things cleared up at that time of the day or the
month, they would not stay cleared up, but we would have an awful spell
of weather following.
We soon saw that there was no use in trying to cheer this Doubting
Thomas, this Herveys Meditation Among the Tombs kind of man. But he
did us good, in that he furnished a type and illustration of a lot of people
who are worrying themselves and everybody else to death, about things
which they never did, never originated or brought about, are powerless to
remedy or change, and concerning which things God has never dreamed of
holding them responsible.
There are some conditions of life that can no more be altered by our will
and way than the weather itself. It takes the almighty hand of Him who
controls winds, waves and clouds to make the transformations we crave
to see.
Meantime our business is in the elevator. We are to help everybody we
can to reach higher floors and the upper story itself in Heaven. God will
see to the material and spiritual realm outside.
One day if we are faithful; if we have made many trips helping others and
stood to our post, without getting soured with the passengers, and
jumping our job; we will be called to the window of the Observatory, and
there looking up we will behold a carriage and horses of fire coming for us.
We will step in with tears of grateful joy; a happy, restful smile will steal
over the dying face, and suddenly we will be caught up above all kinds of
earthly weather, and find ourselves at home and at rest in a country where
the flowers bloom forever and the sun is always bright.
Living Illustrations By B. Carradine.
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