John Todd the Minister

Twenty five years ago I spoke at the funeral of the six year old son of my wife's cousin.  Ryan was a special little boy who died when an accident occurred with medications during his final recovery days of leukemia.  He was basically well until the accident occurred and then there was nothing that could be done to save his life.  Ryan was also a good friend of my son who was just six days younger than Ryan.
Where does John Todd come in?  In that sermon I told the story of John Todd and I will try to recall it now.
John Todd was a minister in New England during the nineteenth century.  One day he received notice that his aunt was dying and she was afraid of death.  John Todd wrote a letter to his aunt to reassure her that there was nothing to fear because death had been conquered by the Lord's death on the cross.  I am borrowing the rest of the story from a blogger who writes Gulf Gulf's blog.  This story comes from theologian John Claypool.

He tells the story of a child born in 1800 in Rutland, Vermont, named John Todd, who would go on to become a prominent Congregational preacher in his day. When he was six years old, his mother became insane and his father died. He was sent to live with an aunt who had never married and had no children and whom he had never seen before. The aunt turned out to be a very tender and loving person. He grew up well in her home. She put him through college and saw him into young manhood.

Some years after he was grown, John got word that his aunt was seriously ill and was, in fact, at the end of her life, and that as warm and tender and loving as he had been to John, she seemed petrified and terrorized at the prospect of dying. So John Todd, the grown man, wrote her this letter:

“It is now 35 years since I, a little boy of six, was left alone in the world. I will never forget the day I made the long journey to your house. I was disappointed that you sent your hired man, Caesar, to come and fetch me. I remember my tears and anxiety as I clung on to Caesar’s back as we started for my new home. I became more frightened as we rode along. ‘Do you think she will have gone to bed when we get there’ I asked Caesar. ‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘When we get out of these here woods, you’re going to be able to see her candle shining in the window.’ Sure enough, we rode out into the clearing, and there was your candle, and there you were waiting at the door, and there were your arms lifting me off my horse, and there was a fire you built for me in the fireplace, and there was a good warm supper, and there you were taking me to bed and hearing my prayers, and not leaving me alone until I had fallen off to sleep.”
“I’m reminding you of these things, now, dear Aunt, because soon God will send for you and take you to your new home. I want you not to fear that summons. I want you not to fear the strange journey or even dark messenger of death because I am sure at the end of the road you will find love and welcome. You will find that you will be as safe as here, safer indeed, in God’s love and care. Because surely, dear Aunt, God can be trusted to be as kind to you as you were to me. Love, John.”