LAST Sunday evening mother took me into her own room, and said she wanted to have a little talk with me alone. She said she could not rest any longer until she knew that I had come to Jesus myself, and had taken Him to be my Saviour.
Then mother told me, that on that dreadful night when Melville was lost, as she had paced up and down the bedroom at Langholme, her one thought had been, ‘Is Melville’s soul safe ? Has Melville ever taken Jesus for his Saviour ?’
Mother could not get this thought out of her mind, and she prayed very earnestly that if Melville’s life were spared, this terrible night might make him decide to come to Jesus at once. Then mother told me how wonderfully her prayer had been answered, for when Melville was in the dark cave alone he had really come to Jesus, and mother said she believed he was trying now to do everything he could do to please his Saviour.
‘But, little Olive,’ said mother, ‘what of you? You are quite old enough now to think for yourself, and to choose for yourself. I have often brought you to Jesus in my arms when you were a little baby, but now I want you to come to Him yourself.’
‘But I don’t know how to come, mother,’ I said. ‘If Jesus was at Langholme, I would run there as fast as I could. But Jesus is in heaven, and I don’t know how to come to Him.’
‘You have not to go so far as Langholme, darling,’ said mother. ‘Jesus is in this room, close to you. He hears us talking together.’
‘Then how shall I come to Him, mother? I do want to come, if I only knew the way.’
And then mother told me a story.
It was about a boy, whose name was Willie. He had a very kind, loving father, who was always so good to him, and gave him every. thing he could to make him happy.
But Willie was a bad boy, and disrespected his father, and one night he got out of bed when everyone was asleep, and ran away from home. He took some of his father’s money, and with that he went a long, long way off; and then, when he had spent it all, Willie began to be very miserable. He had nothing to eat, and his clothes were quite ragged, and he had no one to love him or to comfort him.
Oh, how often Willie thought of his father and of his father’s home, and how happy he used to be there. He would have given anything to be back again, but he was afraid to go. He thought his father would be so very angry with him.
Willie did not know that his father was looking for him all over ; he did not know that every time there was a knock at the door his father went himself to open it, to see if it could be Willie who had come back.
Well, after a time, Willie thought he would go to his father, and ask him to forgive him. He was too hungry and wretched to hold out any longer. He had got a few little bits of work to do, but they had hardly kept him from starving, and he said to himself, ‘I will go back, and ask my father to forgive me.’
And he finally went home, and who do you think he found ? He found his father looking out for him. As soon as he got near the house, his father saw him coming. He had been watching for Willie from the window, and he saw him coming over the hill. And his father ran out to meet him, and put his arms round his neck, and kissed him.
Then Willie said, ‘Father, will you forgive me ?’ And the father forgave him at once, and took him home, and got new clothes for him, and carried his rags away, and gave him some good food, and did all he could to show how glad he was to get his boy back again.
Oh, how surprised and glad Willie was, and how much it made him love his father!
‘And,’ mother said, ‘Willie never ran away again, but he stopped at home, and did all he could to please his dear, kind father, who had been so good to him.’
When mother had finished the story about Willie, she said, ‘Little Olive, do you know who is like that kind father ?’
I asked her if she meant Jesus.
And mother said, ‘Yes, Jesus is like the father, and you are like Willie, dear. You are a long way off from home and you haven’t loved Jesus as you ought. You often grieved Him, and dj1id ‘ u at now you want to come to God as Willie came to his father. Do you want to come Olive?’
‘Yes, mother, I do want to come.’
‘And Jesus wants you to come,’ said mother. ‘Do you know He is looking out for you, and wondering when you will come? Ever since you, were born He has been watching for you ; all this time we have been here at Ravenscliffe He has been watching for you. Sometimes He thought you were coming ; you seemed very near coming but you never came. Just after the fire you thought about coming to Him, and seemed a little way on the road. But you never came. And now He is looking for you again. Will you come to Him, Olive?’
‘Oh, mother! Yes I want to come so much,’ I said, ‘if you will tell me how.’
‘Dear little Olive,’ said mother, ‘I want you to stop in this room after I have gone away, and to shut the door. And then I want you to think : I am alone in the room with Jesus. I cannot see Jesus, but He can see me. He is as close to me as mother was—looking at me—listening to me. And then, Olive, I want you to come to Him at once come to Him as Willie came to his father—to ast? Min to fcuro you, because He has died for you— and he washed your sins away in His blood.
‘Oh, Olive, how Jesus longs for you to come! He came to be a poor Man on earth, that He might save you. He let them mock Him, and laugh at Him, and ill-treat Him, that He might save you. He was put to death—oh, such a dreadful death on the cross!—that He might save you. And now He is longing for you to come to Him, and ask Him to be your Saviour, Will you come, little Olive?’
‘Yes, mother,’ I said, ‘I will come now,’ So mother gave me a kiss, and went away. Then I felt that I was alone with Jesus. I was sure that He was in the room, close beside me, listening to me as mother had done, and waiting to see whether I would come to Him.
And then I did come to Jesus. I knelt down, and talked to Him, just as I would have done if He had been on earth. I thanked Him so very much for dying for me, and I asked Him to be my Saviour—to save me and forgive me—just then even while I was kneeling there in mother’s room. I am sure Jesus must have heard my prayer, for if He was longing for me to come, as mother said He was He would not turn away when I did come.
And then you can be very sure that I did so with all my might.
Mother was so glad to hear that I had come to Jesus; she came in and knelt down beside me, and told me how glad she was.