A small ragged boy of ten happened into the Richmond railway station just outside the great city of London, and looking anxiously into the face of one of the clerks, he called out, “Ticket for London, please!”
“What part of London?” demanded the clerk. John had no idea that London had “parts” but ended up with a ticket for Waterloo station and soon was on his way. He arrived there terribly hungry and finding a cheap restaurant he spent fourpence of his slim capital on a meager lunch.
John was born of gypsy parents. He had a gentle, loving mother, but his father was a hard, drinking man. Young John had been left in care of the horse while his father had gone to the tavern for a drink. Just when John was loosing the horse, intending to take it for a drink, the animal broke away and clattered off down the street. Hearing the noise his father came running out of the tavern, and taking the situation in at a glance, amid curses and threats he struck the boy down and then took off after the runaway. “You wait till I come back,” he shouted, “and I’ll break your neck.”
Terror-stricken, young John took off as fast as he could run in the other direction, resolved to avoid the threatened thrashing. With only two shillings in his pocket he made for the nearest railway station and boarded a train that would take him far from his father’s dreaded whipping. He never saw his parents again. Often in the years to follow, with a bundle of unsold newspapers under his arm, he would steal away by himself and sob his heart out. He would have given all he possessed for but one glimpse of his dear gypsy mother. Years later at a gospel meeting in Canada where he told his life’s story, a kind gypsy stayed bind and told him he remembered meeting a gypsy couple and of how the mother wept for her lost boy. But that was 25 years before and no trace was to be found of them as they had moved on long since.
Poor little Gypsy John found hmsielf alone, unloved and homeless among the crowds on the streets of the great city of London. But a gracious God and a tender Saviour in heaven had His eyes upon the friendless little waif and he was destined to experience a Father’s affection that was beyond anything he had known at home in the gypsy caravan, even beyond his mother’s tender love. God “setteth the solitary in families.”
John got in with some newsboys outside Waterloo station and for three months he derived a meager living from the sale of newspapers. Some days he did well, but on other days his profits were scant indeed. When he could afford it he slept at a cheap lodging house, but many a night he spent in an unused cart or down on the river bank.
About this time John found a chum named Charlie, another waif; they sold papers together, they ate and slept together. Then one day they met a shoeblack, well-dressed and prosperous-looking in a fine new uniform. Inquiring where he came from, the boys were haughtily informed that he was from a Refuge and Shoeblack Brigade Society. After coaxing the boy to tell them the address, the boys set off and were not long in presenting themselves at the door of the big Home. There a sympathetic Mr. Jones, after hearing their story, turned them over to Mr. and Mrs. Gray, the master and matron of the home.
The Refuge had been started many years before by a kind Christian man who sought to reach the “down-and-outers” and the poor boys of London’s streets. There were 160 boys in the Refuge and they went forth each morning, each with his shoeblack box and equipment. Meetings were held regularly and God blessed the gospel to the salvation of many. It was here that John Hawkins came under Christian influences for the first time. Mrs. Gray was much attracted to the little gypsy boy and became. a real mother to him. He loved her as much as any boy loved his own mother. John and Charlie, unlike many of the boys who frittered away much of their time and earnings, worked hard. Then the day came when John became an apprentice in shoemaking.
The gospel services were taken one day by a Mr. Lawler, a master shoemaker, who had a real love for souls and gave a very earnest appeal. His text, “Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee,” gripped young John’s soul. A solemn hush fell on all who heard the story of the rich farmer who had lived without God. Fastening his eyes on the gypsy boy, and pointing his finger directly at him, the speaker said, “If God called you tonight, where would you spend eternity?” Like a sword these words went right to the boy’s heart and he saw himself a vile, unclean sinner, unprepared to meet God. Deeply convicted he went off to bed, but not to sleep. The text haunted him; he was afraid to go to sleep, unconverted, lest he should wake up in hell.
In the silence of the night Mr. Lawler was awakened by a tapping on his door. “Who’s there?” he called out gruffly. It was John. As Mr. Lawler opened the door the lad burst into tears, and sobbed out, “Oh! sir, I’m such a big sinner that I can’t go to sleep.” The master put his arms around the boy and made him sit down by the fire. He read from his open Bible several scriptures, among them: “He that heareth My word and believeth on Him that sent Me hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life.” John 5:2424Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life. (John 5:24). Then he turned to Acts 2:2121And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved. (Acts 2:21): “And it shall come to pass that whoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.” Light shone into the boy’s soul: They knelt down together and for the first time in his life the gypsy boy prayed to God. Immediately the burden of his sin was lifted and a great peace flooded his heart. Gypsy John had found Christ, and the loving Shepherd had found His lost little sheep. From thenceforth He would bear him home on His shoulders rejoicing.
ML 05/14/1967