YEARS ago, in the town of Kidderminster, stood a modest little chapel, which has since been replaced by a handsome edifice erected in a fashionable part of the town. The old chapel, however, has been the scene of many an outpouring of blessing, and, at the time of which I am writing, its occupants could rejoice in the ministry of a real servant of God. This minister was a great lover of children, and not only did he hold a Bible-class for these young lambs of the flock, but sought upon every occasion to win the love and confidence of all the young people and children of his congregation. Thus, when paying pastoral visits to the parents, it was frequently the custom of our minister to take one of the children upon his knees, and to coax them to tell him all their little joys and sorrows.
No wonder that one little girl, about five years of age, should almost worship such a minister, for in her home he was always spoken of with great respect, and when he called at their house, it was the delight of this little maiden to sit upon his knee and to tell him answers to his questions.
“What book did she like best?” he would inquire, and she would say, “The book about Tristian, who went on pilgrimage, and who fell into a puddle, and dot dirty, but who dot out aden and went on his way all right. Till at last he dot to the ‘lestial city, which mamma says means heben.”
The good man would smile at the prattle of little Clara, who was so fond of reading, and would encourage her to tell him why she loved her books. A stranger would no doubt have laughed outright at the curious nature of the child’s reading; but Clara herself would be soberly in earnest as she enumerated for her pastor’s benefit, “Jack the Giant Killer,” “The Pilgrim’s Progress,”
“Little Red Riding Hood,” “Goody Two Shoes,” “The Holy War,” “Mother Hubbard,” and, strangest of all for a child’s choice, the “Death: a Vision,” translated by Solomon Gesner.
One Sunday, little Clara was sitting as usual with her parents, listening to the words which fell from the lips of her dear pastor.
Upon that particular morning he had taken for his text these words, “The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.” In the course of his remarks the good man would frequently exclaim — “Alas! alas! How sad! how sad!”
As little Clara listened she began to wonder if she herself were saved, and the child said to herself, “I cannot really be saved, for I do not love God, nor Jesus. It seems to me I am afraid of God knowing all I think about, and, besides, it seems so hard to be good, and so hard to love One I cannot see. Oh, dear! our pastor is saying, The wicked shall be turned into hell, with all the nations that forget God,’ and I am always forgetting Him.” The tears were streaming from the eyes of the little girl at the bare thought of being separated in eternity from her beloved parents, for she was certain they were saved and loved God, and here was the minister the child almost adored telling all the people that unless they were saved they could never go to heaven. How Clara way longing to be all alone, that she might seek with all her heart for this salvation!
Upon reaching home, the child sought a silent place, where, with tears, she entreated the great God to save her soul, and not let her be parted at last from her dear papa and mamma, and the minister, and all good people.
More than thirty years have passed by, and Clara is still living, but that dear minister, of whom even now Clara thinks with pleasure, that man of God, has passed to his reward, and so have the father and mother of little Clara. She herself is some day hoping to join them, where “they who sow in tears shall reap in joy,” for Clara has many years ago found the roll which Bunyan’s pilgrim had — and is a pilgrim herself, journeying on to join the company of those “who have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.”
Dear children, have you come to Jesus to save you? Remember, you may not live like little Clara, but if you come now to Jesus, He will make you fit for life, or fit for death, and He hath said in His word, “I love them that love Me, and they that seek Me early shall find Me.”
K. C. C.