I WILL, now tell you of a little girl who lived on a farm, many, many miles away. The farm stood on the edge of a large forest. One day the little girl went too far into the forest. She wandered about for hours trying to find her way back, but could not. She tried this way and that way, but all to no purpose. Poor little girl, she was lost! She cried aloud “Father! mother, mother!” but the father and mother could not hear; so the little one, footsore and tired out, fell down beneath the branches of a large tree and fell asleep. The poor child was lost.
In a while after, her kind father and mother missed her, and at once began to seek her. They searched a great many places, all about the farmhouse, in the neighbors’ houses, and wherever they thought she could be. At last a number of friends resolved to search the forest; so they took lanterns, for it was quite dark, and commenced an active persevering search for the little one.
One by one they returned, sad and disappointed. Fear filled their hearts; they began to think that the wolves had killed her. The parents were almost distracted with grief; the mother, especially, wrung her hands sobbing bitterly, and crying,
“My child is lost; my child is lost.”
I wonder if every reader of this little paper knows that he or she is lost! It is a terrible thing to be lost in a forest, in a dark night, with no food, and no father and kind mother near you; but it is an awful thing, and much worse, to be a lost sinner. Now you are a lost sinner; but I can tell you of a Saviour— Jesus the Lord. He came to save. He could only do so through death. He died for the sheep.
You need a Saviour, for you are a sinner; you need salvation, for you are lost.
“And I, a little straying lamb,
May come to Jesus as I am,
Though goodness I have none;
May now be folded in His breast,
As birds within the parent nest,
And be His little one.”
The night was nearly past, and yet no tidings of the lost child. What a night they spent! The anxiety and distress of the agonized parents were dreadful. How terrible the thought of losing their little one, in that deep, dark forest; perhaps dying for want of food, or devoured by the wolves which roamed about the forest.
Suddenly three short, quick blasts of a horn were heard.
“Hark!” cried one; “hark! she is found!” “She is found!” was the joyful cry. Yes, the lost one is found. A man in the careful search, had just found a little bit of ribbon—it is enough. He traces the small tiny foot-marks, until he found the dear child sleeping, with her cheeks still wet with tears. She is found.
With what joy the strong man took up the lost child in his big arms and hastened home! The child was lost, and is now found.
Do you think, my little reader, the man complained of the toil and trouble he had endured? No, no; he would have borne as much again, if only he could rescue the little one, and restore her to her sorrowing parents. All in the house were happy. Why? Because the lost was found!
Jesus, in like manner, has suffered even unto death for us, such was His great love; and such it is, too, for He ever loves the sinner.
The shepherd, when he bore home the sheep, rejoicing, made all in the house happy. He said, “Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost;” and so, if you give your heart to Jesus now, without waiting until another time, you would make everyone in heaven happy.
O that every little reader may fly to the kind and open arms of Jesus—the Shepherd who loved the sheep, and gave His life for them.
ML 10/23/1927