(For Little Ones.)
THE little reader cannot wander far down any of our green lanes now, without wading through “the sere and yellow leaves” of autumn, which now thickly strew the paths by the hedges, and the roadsides beneath the trees.
A little while ago, those dry, withered leaves were green, and hung in beauty on the boughs, glistening in the sunshine and rustling gently in the summer wind, giving shelter to the little birds and “a shadow from the heat” to many a weary one.
A little while before, they were beautiful buds, just bursting into life, unfolding day by day to the light, and looking so sweetly green and fresh and young that the eye was never tired of gazing on them. Now look at them. Sodden by the rain, or dry and crumbling into fragments when pressed in the hand; trodden under foot unheeded, blown about by the eddying winds, or lying in heaps till they turn to dust and mingle with the earth from which they sprang.
Yes, look on them, dear little reader, and learn a lesson from the “autumn leaves.”
If you are little, then this is your budding-time. Like those leaves in the spring, you are just beginning to open out to the sunshine and the shadows of earthly life, by which I mean the good and the bad that lies all around you here. The sunshine can only come to you from heaven; but the shadows come from earth and earthly things. I need not ask you which you like best. No little girl or boy ever took pleasure in gloom and shadow yet. If but a sunbeam falls on the floor on a gloomy day, a little child will get near it if he can. Therefore I am quite sure that children love sunshine better than shade. But then the sunshine I want to talk about is not the mere light of the noon-day sun, nor the pleasures of this life; but a Light that is brighter, far more blessed, and that shineth forever and ever. Can you guess what I mean?
It is not a Light that you will naturally like. Strange as it may seem, if you were left to yourself you would rather shun than seek it. It is a Light that “cometh from above,” far, far away beyond where the sun is shining. It is “THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD,” and if you will turn to the first chapter of John’s gospel, you will there read about this wondrous light.
Now the tender leaf-buds of last spring opened daily to the sunshine, unfolding more and more to him, from the first moment that their dark coverings yielded to his quickening rays.
This is your budding-time; but have you yet imitated the young leaf-buds? Have you yet yielded to the loving call of Christ, to believe in him and be saved? Have you yet come to Jesus, and got all your sins washed away by his precious blood? If not, do not delay; for, remember, your spring-time will not always last. Do not the leaves that strew your path seem to say so as they rustle under your feet? Where is their spring time now? Ah, it’s gone by forever! They will never shine in the light of the sun again. And if you let your budding-time go by, unblest by the “true Light,” who shall tell what the end may be? You may live on, you may grow up, you may flutter for a little space in the changing lights and shadows of this poor world, and then—what say the “Autumn Leaves?” They fluttered on the bough for a little time, but now they are fallen to the earth, and the wind is driving them into darkness. Oh, it would be too shocking, that you, a bright and happy child now in your budding-time, should grow up to become like those autumn leaves! What! driven to darkness— “outer darkness, where there is wailing and gnashing of teeth!” Oh, let it not be so! But perhaps you have unfolded to the Light—perhaps you have come to Christ? Well then, remember how those autumn leaves, when in their budding-time, opened daily more and more to the sun’s bright rays, as they grew on; and do you imitate them in this also? Has Jesus saved you by his precious blood, and can you neglect or fail to think of him? Should not your heart, your understanding, your whole being expand towards him, as the leaf-bud unfolded itself to the sun until its entire surface shined in his light? And if you read about, think of, commune with Jesus—if you look up at him, your risen and glorified. Lord, and walk in the light of his glory, you will be changed into the same image, from glory to glory, even as by the Lord the Spirit; you will
“Shine in his perfections;”
you will gladden the eyes of those Christian friends who love you, as the green leaves of spring-time refreshed the sight of all who looked on them. And when the Lord comes, as he shortly will, and takes you home, a never ending summer
“Of undisclosed delight”
will lie all before you; a summer where nothing withers, and where you will never again heal the sorrowful rustle of
“THE AUTUMN LEAVES.”