OUR little Freddy had been ill for many months, and the doctor said there was no hope for him, unless he went into the hospital.
We were so anxious that he should get better, that we consented to part with him for a few weeks, and then he came home to die. They could do him no good—he had lived eight years of suffering, and now nothing more could be done for him. Freddy was always bright and happy, never murmuring at his lot, although he could not play ab out as other children did. He was called the sunshine of our home, and while he was able to walk, would always come to meet us when we returned home. If any one of us was crying, he would come and put his arms around our neck and cry too; if we were very happy about anything, in spite of his great suffering, he was happy too.
But at last the day had come, and Freddy had to go. On the same morning that he died, mother said to him, “Do you know you are soon going to be with Jesus?” He quietly answered, “Yes,” and from that time patiently waited for His call, and when it came his answer was, “Here, here I am; oh, come, Jesus, take me,” and with these words on his lips, and a happy smile on his face, he passed away to join the happy ones, where “Around the throne of God in heaven, Thousands of children stand.”
Dear children who read this true tale about my dear little brother, I would ask you to live so that you may be ready, as Freddy was, to answer to the call when Jesus comes.
“I would tell the little ones
Of Jesus and His love;
I know that Jesus wants them
In His happy home above.”
E.W.―d.