Little George M. was twelve years of age, and being of an amiable disposition, and ever full of fun and glee, he became a favorite in the Sunday school. His teacher loved George, whose winsome manner and open countenance were very taking, and as the little boy listened Sunday after Sunday to the word of truth, which she taught, he seemed much impressed with the solemnity of its meaning. But soon, alas! the fear of the end of sinners, and the sense of the need of salvation, were forgotten, for George was but a wayside hearer.
One Sunday, as tickets for a children’s tea-meeting were being given out, George said to his teacher, “Do I deserve to have one, for I do not want one unless I deserve it?”
His teacher told him the ticket was a gift, and was not granted because he deserved it.
“And by this,” she added, “you may learn of the gift of God, eternal life, given to all who receive Christ, who died for sinners and rose again.”
George, we need not say, took the ticket as a gift, for he was glad to go to the Sunday school treat; but would he care to have the gift of God—eternal life?
“No, another day,” he murmured. Thus weeks and months passed away, and still he remained indifferent to the call of God.
About this time a great many children at the Sunday school where he went, confessed Christ, and among them were two of George’s companions. These boys persuaded him to accompany them to the week-night Bible-class, but, sad to say, he only went to mock.
On the following Sunday he came to school, and it seemed that the Spirit of God was striving with him, for his attention was marked, and he joined in singing the last hymn, heard the closing prayer, and with a thoughtful countenance walked with his companions to listen to some open-air preaching.
However, while the servant of God was speaking, George stood mocking and throwing dust in the air, upon which the preacher turned towards him, and pointing with his finger, said, “If that boy knew he might be a corpse a week from today, he would not mock at God’s message now.”
Upon hearing these words, the guilty boy walked away, but that was the last invitation to salvation he ever heard.
On the following Sunday his seat was vacant. His teacher called at his house after school was over to inquire for him, but it was TOO LATE, for at the very time the school doors were closed that Sunday afternoon, George had then passed into eternity. On the Friday previous to his death he had taken cold, inflammation had set in, he had become unconscious, and remained so until he died.
Dear boys, do not put off your solemn feelings about eternity until tomorrow, for tomorrow, it may be TOO LATE.
ML 03/15/1931