LATE in the afternoon of one bright day a group of merry, light-hearted children were playing by the seashore, not far from their parents’ dwellings. The group consisted of five in number, while their ages varied from a tiny boy of about four years’ of age to a rosy-cheeked girl of nine. Three girls and two boys formed the members of the little party. Very bright and happy they all looked as they stood together on the shore of the beautiful bay they so dearly loved. Yes, it was pleasant to stand by the side of the moving waters and to watch the white-crested waves, as one by one they came creeping in to the sandy beach at their feet. For some time, charmed by the soft rippling music of the waters, the children stood and watched the ceaseless ebb and flow of the snowy waves. But they tired of this occupation at length, and sought for recreation of some other kind.
Wooden spades were at hand, and as the evening was a little chilly, Nina, evidently the leader of the little party, led her companions to a sheltered spot beneath the neighboring cliff. Here they might carry out their childish play in shelter and comfort. It was not long ere boys and girls were all busy at their mimic labors.
Sweeter and sweeter sounded the rippling of the advancing waters as the children worked on at their new occupation. Half-an-hour had passed, and still their task was not completed; but the setting of the sun in the distance reminded them that it was almost time to return to their fathers’ dwellings.
But their work must not be left unfinished. Already eager little eyes were glowing with delight at the success of their united labors. Five minutes more, and their triumph would be complete.
And Nina, as we have said, leader and director of the little party, issues her orders and gives advice and encouragement in all directions. Her merry voice may be heard higher than the others, and her ringing laugh echoes more distinctly along the overhanging cliffs. Look at her now! See! She is kneeling on the soft damp sand, trying to put a finishing touch to the miniature tunnel which the children have just constructed. Her lips are parted with evident satisfaction at the result of her suggestions, while her bright blue eyes seem to catch some reflection of the golden sunset, and to light up her rosy cheeks with more than their usual brilliance.
One hand rests against the steep sandbank at her side, by which means she supports herself as she bends over the hollow entrance.
But as Nina leans over the fragile archway she is conscious of a movement above her. One look of pain, terror, and utter helplessness, and no more! A minute later, and a large heap of sand is all that is to be seen on the spot where the children had stood. A sandbank had slipped, and buried little Nina and two of her companions beneath it.
Terrified and affrighted, the little ones called loudly for aid. Ready help was at hand. Strong men with willing hands rushed to the rescue. Thank God! The two little ones are safe. Fresh air and cold water will soon revive them.
But what of poor little Nina? Ah! They come to the little prostrate body at last. Scarcely five minutes have elapsed since the sandbank fell; but little Nina no longer breathes. Her spirit has passed away forever. Yes, death has come to her in the midst of her play. By the side of the rippling waters, and beneath the shelter of the majestic cliffs, little Nina had been called away from this beautiful world. Suddenly, and without one word of warning, the dear little girl had been ushered into eternity.
How many of my dear young readers are longing to ask, “Did Nina love Jesus? Oh, tell us that!”
Dear boys, dear girls, how I wish that I could answer your question. But I do not know. I could not learn that she did; none could tell me that she had ever owned Jesus as her Saviour.
Then perhaps you will say, “Why, why did you tell us this sad story?”
I will tell you why, dear children. It is just because I want to ask you, Are you ready to die? If death were to surprise you in the midst of your play, as it did little Nina, would your happy little spirits pass into the presence of the loving Saviour? Jesus died to save you, and to make you fit to enter the heavenly mansions which He has prepared for them that “believe” on Him. Have you trusted Him, and are your sins washed away in His precious blood? If not, dear boys, dear girls, come to Him at once. He waits to receive you. His arms of love stand wide open to welcome you. Jesus is the Good Shepherd. Oh, how safe are the lambs for whom He careth! Yes, safe for time and safe for eternity. Not one thing can happen to them without His knowledge. Life and death are in His hands, and no harm can come to the sheep for whom He has died.
Trust Him, dear little reader, and even should He see fit to call you away as suddenly as poor little Nina, you will pass joyfully into the Saviour’s presence, knowing that your sins have been washed away in His precious blood, which cleanseth from all sin. M. V. B.