A LITTLE boy about four or five years old, was returning from school one day. He bounded into the house, exclaiming as he hung his hat up in the entry, “This is my home, this is my home.”
A lady was then on a visit to his mother, and was sitting in the parlor. She said to him,
“Willie, the house next door is just the same as this; suppose you go in there and hang your hat up in the hall; wouldn’t that be your home as well as this?”
“No ma’am,” said Willie, very earnestly, “It would not.”
“Why not? What makes this house your home more than that;” asked the lady.
Willie had never thought of this before. But after a moment’s pause he ran up to his mother, and throwing his arms around her neck, he said,
“Because my dear mother lives here!”
It is the presence, and company of those we, love which make our earthly home; and it is just so with our heavenly home—that home which our dear Saviour has one to prepare, for the children of God.
ML 12/05/1909