I WANT to tell you of a little girl, from whom I learned a lesson, and who made a nice little remark, which proved a blessing to myself and many more besides.
The great God, the Father of the Lord Jesus, loves children, and is saving a great number; and sometimes little children learn His love more quickly, and His kind ways more clearly than older people.
So it was with the little girl I am going to tell you about. It was not in a railway train, nor in the busy street, nor at a great meeting that I first met her. O, no. Where do you think it was, dear children. It was in a sad place!
Picture to yourselves a small room, and a tiny bed, and in it a little child, pale and wasted and weak, and hardly able to speak a word. How she suffers! And there is her fond, loving mother, weeping and sad. and expecting every hour to be her last.
Yet, dear little ones, is not this a common sight? The youngest of you, if you think but a moment, would readily tell me of some little companion, perhaps a brother or sister, or some of your friends, even younger than yourselves, who once were well and as bright and happy as you, but now their little bodies are in the cold grave, and you will see them here no more forever! Is not this very sad? How is it that so many, even little children suffer so much, and then die, and have to be buried out of sight? O! there is one little verse in the Bible that tells all about it, and it is this:
“By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.” Rom. 5:12.
Yes, that is it. Sin is the cause of it all. What a dreadful thing then, sin must be.
Well, I knelt by the side of this dying little one, as I then thought, and spoke to her of Jesus, and His dying love. I told her I thought she would soon be with. Him (both mother and child knew Jesus), but she opened her little languid eves, and to my surprise, said,
“Yes, sir, but if Jesus has any little work for me to do, He can raise me up again, even yet.” I wondered much at the child speaking in that way.
She did not die, nor did I see her again for two years. When I next met her, she seemed well and happy. She had forgotten me, but I wondered if she was still as happy with the Lord. I thought I would search her little heart; and so, looking her full in the face, I said,
“My child, if you were to die this moment, what would become of you?”
For an instant she was startled, but only for a moment, and then in a clear and soft voice, replied:
“I should go right up to be with Jesus, sir.”
“But,” I said, “are you not conscious of being a sinner—of sinning even every day?”
Her eyes fell, a cloud came over her face, and again she said,
“Yes, sir, I know I am a sinner, and I know I sin even every day.”
Then I hastily asked, “How could you be received into heaven?”
The cloud came again, but only for a moment, and then a bright smile, showing real inward joy, shone on her face, and looking fully into mine, she sweetly answered in these most impressive words,
“Yes, sir, I know I am a sinner, but the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin.”
That was enough. How beautiful! How it rejoiced my heart! What a nice bit of service for Jesus it was to bear such a blessed, clear testimony to the value of His precious blood!
Many times I have told this simple story to some doubting, troubled soul, and many times God has used it to strengthen their faith and give them comfort.
Perhaps someone is reading this who cannot say, “His blood has washed my sins away,” and perhaps you are troubled about it. If I could look into your heart, what a sorrowful sight it would be.
“O, yes,” you say, “I know I am naughty. I try to put on a brave look, and I have often tried to forget it. My father and mother think me a merry, careless child, but at times I am very sorrowful. I feel my bad tempers, my self-will my pride of heart, and I have tried to be better, but I can’t; and then when I am alone, I cry, and am afraid of God, and dare not think of death, and O! I do so wish that I was like that little girl.”
My dear child, I have been just like that, and I know all about it. But better still, Jesus knows it, too. Yes, the very One who died for you, is at this very moment seated on the throne of God, crowned with glory and honor. Yes, He knows all your troubles, and He knows you cannot help yourself. He knows the more you try, the more you will break down. What do you think He wants you to do? I will tell you. He wants you to talk to Him; to tell Him everything in your heart.
“What,” you say, “all my bad thoughts; all my wicked tempers?”
Yes, my child, He wants you just to tell Him everything. He wants you to think of Him; to look in His face; to see the tenderness and pity and love that shine there. He wants you to know Himself, and He will make you very happy. O, look up. What do you see on the throne? The Lamb of God Who has been slain. Why was He slain? He died, “the Just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God.” God was satisfied; yes, and well pleased, and raised Him from the dead, and has given Him glory, and all this that just such troubled souls as yours might be saved from death and delivered from the power of sin, and made happy now and forever.
ML 02/22/1925