In the suburbs of a large city some years ago a group of lads played. As usual one of them, a lively boy of twelve, was looked upon by the others as their leader, and at his suggestion all would join in their fun.
From the city one day there came a poor crippled man, his arms and legs twisted and weak with disease. As he passed along the leading boy suggested having a “little fun with him.” Soon they were jeering and mocking at his helplessness, but never a word escaped the poor man’s lips.
The “hero” boy later returned home, and there to his great surprise sat his mother talking to the same crippled man he had been so cruelly mocking but a short time before. The boy’s first thought was that the poor man would have told his mother and he almost wished the ground would open up and take him away.
“Well, Henry,” said his mother, seeing him staring and changing color. “Have you forgotten all your manners? Come and meet an old friend of ours.”
Henry felt and looked sheepish as he walked timidly over to meet the strange visitor. But the latter with a winning smile, greeted him, and then slowly raising one of his crippled hands he laid it on the lad’s curly head and said: “God bless you, Henry my boy; God bless you! May you grow up a true and faithful servant of the Lord Jesus Christ, and witness a good confession for Him. God bless you, Henry!”
Finally with a warm greeting to the mother and another to the boy, he hobbled slowly and painfully from the room. As soon as the front door was closed the boy rushed to his mother, and in a torrent of words asked: “Mother, who is he? Tell me quick! Where has he come from? Why is he crippled, What has he come for quick, Mother!”
“Why, Henry my boy, I thought you knew. Just calm your excitement and I’ll tell you. Sit down.” Henry listened impatiently to his mother and drank in every word about the strange visitor.
“Henry, when you were a little fellow, about four years old, you were playing near our river and suddenly, seeing a big butterfly, you chased it till it took you to the edge of the river and then you made a grab at it and fell headlong into the icy cold water. That gentleman saw you fall in, and just as he was, he dived in after you and saved your little life. Later, rheumatic fever set in with him, and after a fearful struggle between life and death, he pulled through; but he has been a helpless cripple ever since. That’s what he did for you, Henry: he saved your life.”
And now it was the mother’s turn to be amazed, for the boy had fallen on the rug at her feet, and was sobbing as if his heart would break.
“Why, Henry! Henry! What is the matter? Tell me,” she pleaded. At last through the sobs came the words.
“Oh, Mother! I’ve been mocking—and insulting — the one — the one who-risked-his-life-for-me. Will he-ever-forgive me? Oh, Mother, I’ve insulted and hurt my best friend!”
Say, you who read this story of Henry’s boyhood, does it fit you, and your conduct toward a perfectly gracious Saviour, who went farther than risking His life, who gave His life for you when you were helpless, to ransom and rescue you from an eternal death, and still today bears the marks in His glorified body? How have you treated Him these years? Have you mocked Him and put Him to an open shame? Have you scorned His great love wherewith He has loved you? Perhaps you have never seen it in this light before, when you mocked His dying love. Can’t you see it now? The only Saviour is Jesus Christ who can save you and fit you for God’s presence. He died upon the cross to pay the price and settle your debt with God. He still loves sinners and can be yours today. Can you refuse such love?
ML 10/22/1961