Whilst visiting some families in a little narrow court in London, I saw an old woman, standing at her door, looking bright and happy. I wondered what made her look so in the midst of sickness and death, for fever was raging at one house in the court and death had paid a visit to another, snatching away a little fair-haired boy of some six years. I crossed over the court to the aged one, whom I found was in her eighty-third year, and very deaf. She at once asked me into her cottage, and gave me a slate and pencil, I wrote, “What think ye of Christ?” and handed it to her. She read it, immediately dropped the slate, and raising her hands above her head, her face beaming with joy, exclaimed, “He is my all in all. Do you love Him?” I wrote on the slate, “Yes! He bore all my sins on Calvary’s Cross, all the judgment that I deserved.” She read it, and then clasped my hand with both of hers, and told me how God had cared for her for years past, providing her with such a Saviour as His own dear Son, and meeting her every daily need; and finished by saying, “I am longing to be with Him, the Blessed Lord Jesus, my Saviour.”
Oh! the joy of calmly resting
On the Saviour’s changeless love;
Oh! the sweetness thus of tasting
Mercy flowing from above.
Reader, may I ask you one question? “What think ye of Christ?” Can you say with my old friend, “He is my all in all”?
H.W.