The story of Jenny Lind and a blacksmith’s son

In 1849 at the hour of the evening opera, a large crowd had gathered to hear the Swedish nightingale, Jenny Lind. Staggering down the street outside was Max Bronzden, son of a blacksmith, who had shared childhood with Jenny Lind, but who had become an alcoholic.

Seeing the multitude at the opera house, he slowed his steps. From, inside came the ringing voice that awakened memories. Watching his chance, he evaded the ticket agent and found a seat in a dark corner, hoping no one would claim it. His keen ears and musical temperament began to drink in the glorious music that filled the vast auditorium. The number ended, and a tempest of applause shook the house. No one applauded more heartily than Max.

Stirred as he had not been since childhood, he forgot himself and his rags. Running forward, he cried, “Jenny, my little Jenny: I told you that you would do it. Speak to me and tell me that you remember me. I told you that you would rule the world with that voice. Speak to me and tell me that you remember me.”

The crowd cried, “Put him out! He is crazy!” Strong arms seized Max and started pushing him toward the door when Jenny, who had been bowing to the crowd, suddenly lifted a hand and silenced the audience. “No, leave him in. I know that man!”

At this point Max turned toward Jenny and said: “Forgive me. But I was passing. I heard your voice and I stole my way in. I wanted to listen to you sing for the sake of old times. At one time the bird and I were the only listeners you had. I told you that you would be great, and you seemed glad to hear my praise when I was nothing but a barefoot boy, the blacksmith’s son.”

Bending forward toward him, Jenny Lind said, “Bring him to the front seat. It is Max Bronzden, my earliest and truest friend. Stand here, Max. I want my audience to know you. You created in my heart the ambition to be great. My stage was just a forest log, and you showered me with wild flowers, which I prized more than I prize these jewels. Your praise stirred in me the desire to do what these friends have heard me do tonight. Be worthy of the trust and confidence I give you. I have struggled and conquered all difficulties. You can do the same. Be content no longer, Max, to be a vagabond, as you say you are. Be a man!”

Max could hardly speak, but in hoarse earnestness, he said, “Jenny, with God’s help, I will.” The concert hall, which had been as silent as death, burst into a more tumultuous applause than it had given the world’s greatest singer a few moments before. And Max went from that place determined to be a new man, with more courage than he had ever had, never again to be conquered by the damage alcohol can inflict.

Jenny Lind, who had the whole world at her feet and all the wealth any person could ever need, was never so busy or preoccupied with herself that she could not recognize the needs of others and seek to help them. She never became so important in her own eyes that she ceased to be grateful. She believed that persons who are too busy or important to help those who are down and out and in need have more business and importance than God intended for them to have.

Jenny Lind’s concern and encouragement for an old friend was what it took to challenge him to turn to God for the strength to turn his life around. Are there persons you personally know who need someone to show them love and concern? It could possibly inspire and challenge them to seek God’s help in getting their lives turned around. It is one of the finest ways I know to serve Jesus Christ and to follow His example.