I was once trying to get to know a family in order to teach them of Christ. However, time and again I failed. Then in a meeting I noticed one of the little boys of that family. He hadn't come for any good he was sticking pins in the backs of the other boys, but I thought if I could get hold of him it would do good.
I shook hands with the boys as they left, and as I saw this little boy coming out, I shook hands with him, and patted him on the head. I said that I was glad to see him, and hoped he would come again.
The boy hung his head and went away, but the next night he came back and behaved better. He came two or three times after, and then asked us to pray for him that he might become a Christian. That was a happy night for me. He became a Christian and a good one.
Some time later, I saw the boy weeping and I wondered if his old temper had got hold of him again. He got up and I was curious as to what he would say.
"I wish you would pray for my mother," he said.
"Have you spoken to her or tried to pray with her?"
"Well, Mr. Moody," he replied, "I never had an opportunity; she doesn't believe, and won't hear me."
"Now," I said, "I want you to talk to your mother tonight. I will pray for you both."
When the boy returned home that night, he went to the sitting-room and, finding some people there, he sat waiting for an opportunity. Eventually, his mother said it was time for bed. The boy went to the door but turned around and hesitated for a minute. Then he ran to his mother and threw his arms around her neck.
"What is the matter?" she asked, thinking he was sick.
Between his sobs, the boy told his mother that for five weeks he had been a Christian. He had stopped swearing and was trying to be obedient to her. How happy he would be if she would be a Christian. Then he went off to bed and his mother sat for a few minutes, but couldn't stand it. She went up to his room and at the door, she heard him weeping and praying, "Oh, God, convert my dear mother."
She couldn't sleep that night. Next day she told the boy to go and ask Mr. Moody to come and see her and I went over as quickly as I could. I found her sitting in a rocking-chair weeping.
"Mr. Moody," she said, "I want to become a Christian."
'What has brought that change over you, I thought you didn't believe in it?"
She told me how her son had come to her, and how she hadn't slept all night, and how her sin rose up before her like a dark mountain. The next Sunday the boy took his mother to the Sunday School, and she became a Christian worker. Children, if you find Christ, tell it to your fathers and mothers. Throw your arms around their necks and lead them to Jesus.