ONE evening, at the close of a children’s meeting I invited any dear children who were thinking about their sins, and anxious to find the Saviour, to remain for a little personal conversation with myself, or with any of the teachers present. But all went away, and it seemed as though there would be no one for us to speak to.
Some minutes passed by, when the door was softly opened, and a child came in, sitting down in a seat at the very back of the building. Soon the door opened again, and another crept in, looking very unhappy, and then another and another, until, at last, twelve had returned to hear how they might find the Saviour.
Among the twelve who came back that night, I well remember one dear little girl, seven years old. Her face looked very sad; she said it was her sins that troubled her. She remembered so many bad things that she had done, although only seven years old, and she did so want to know how they could be all taken away.
Now what do you think I said to her? Did I tell her that God would forgive her because she had shed a few tears, or if she kept on weeping every day for a month? No!
Did I tell her that God would be quite satisfied with her because she seemed very sorry for her sins? O, no!
Did I say that if she kept on praying very earnestly, God would perhaps pardon her? No!
Did I say, “Now, my dear, you must make up your mind to be a very good little girl, and never do any naughty, wicked things again. Then you will get to heaven?”
No, indeed, I did not.
Do you think I told her that she was too young, as a lady once said to a child who wanted to stay behind after one of the services? I recollect the little creature looking up into my face, with the great tears in her eyes, and saying,
“Mr. S. am I too little?”
“O, no, my dear; how old are you?” “I’m five years old, and teacher said I was too little.”
Now, shall I tell you what I really did say to the little girl of seven, who was so anxious to know how her sins could be taken away? Well, I told her that crying would not take away one of her sins; that saying prayers could not remove them; that if she could be quite good all the rest of her life, that could not take away one of the sins she had done in the past, for, of course, God cannot have any sin in heaven. So that she must be shut of that happy home above unless she could get all her sins taken right away.
Then I told her that although she could not get rid of one of her own sins, the Lord Jesus Christ could, and would, take them all away, if she came to Him.
I begged her just to trust Jesus at once, as there never would be so good and easy a time in her life to become a Christian. That night the little girl trusted Jesus to save her. She believed that His blood was shed upon the cross of Calvary to wash away all her sins, and whenever I saw her afterwards, her face looked so bright and happy!
Can the dear children who read this true story, say like my little friend—
“I have been washed in the blood of Jesus”?
ML 12/04/1927