A Child’s Message from God.
(See illustration on cover).
My dear friend, Miss Emily P. Leakey, well known to all readers of “A Message from God” for her telling articles which are so much appreciated, has given me permission to print the story of her first convert.
She was used by God to the conversion of Colonel R― before she was three years old. She is close on ninety years of age now, and still eager to win souls for the Lord Jesus. She has all her mental powers, but lacks the power to walk much. It would be a gracious act if any Christian reader would pray earnestly to God that He would strengthen her, so that she might be able to walk out of doors a little, as she often longs to do.
Colonel R — shall tell the story of his conversion in his own words, as he told it to a friend fifty years after the dear “baby” had won him to the Saviour.
“I never shall forget the first evening I saw my little pet, a blue-eyed darling, with bright hair. Some people call it red; golden chestnut I call it. She was in a white frock and blue sash, and she was nestling in the arms of a clergyman, also a visitor at our mutual friend’s house. The child was merrily chatting to her would-be nurse about a kitten she was going to give him. ‘Kitty has a bou yibbon yound its neck, like yound me?’ By degrees, as we began to talk, the child became silent, and maybe listened to us as we talked of Divine things, I showing my ignorance and folly by presuming to deny the Diety of Christ. Suddenly―I shall never forget the scene―Mr. B― raised up the nestling, stood her on his knee, and said, ‘Tell that gentleman who Jesus is.’ She was not three years old. ‘Chubby,’ again he said, tell that gentleman who Jesus is.’ ‘Jesus is God!’ (‘Dedus is Dad’ she pronounced it), and folding her small fat hands as if in prayer, and me pray to Him (‘pay,’ she said). No, Doneton, never shall I forget the reverence on that child’s face. I was simply thunderstruck, but Mr. B― looked bright with pleasure, as he nailed home the convicting words with― ‘out of the mouth of babes and suckling’s Thou has perfected praise’ (Matt. 21:1616And said unto him, Hearest thou what these say? And Jesus saith unto them, Yea; have ye never read, Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise? (Matthew 21:16)). I was struck speechless and convicted, but not converted. The child said no more, but lay back and went to sleep; her lesson had to be completed another day. I soon rose to take my departure; but somehow I felt so drawn to that house that I speedily called again, with the full purpose of opening my heart to the mother, who evidently had taught the child the truth; but it was the child and not the mother that brought me to Christ, and completed the lesson of salvation I had to learn. An irresistible aching so filled my heart that I determined at last to call early, say at 11:30 a.m., for fear of missing Mrs. Leakey; and it happened, for some reason or other known to the Lord, sir, that instead of being shown into the drawing room I was ushered into the schoolroom, where the mother, and at least eight of her family were occupied at lessons.
There were two big boys at the globe; two girls and another boy were writing dictation from their mother’s lips, whilst one delicate girl, with her face and hands tied up, was lying on a couch; whilst the twins were seated on high chairs with picture books. I enjoyed the scene of domestic happiness and order, and asked mamma what my little friend and her brother were about. ‘Learning to “sit still” and not disturb their elders.’ ‘Capital, mother,’ thought I; you’ll be the one to help my soul.’ But no, Doneton, the mother didn’t, but the baby did. I beckoned little Miss Chubby to come over to me, and she gladly gave up sit still to climb on my knee. I showed her my watch, I mewed like pussy, and did all sorts of things to amuse her, but her face was serious; I couldn’t produce any dimples on her cheeks. At last she slipped off my knee, toddled to her place, and fetching her picture book, returned immediately, impelled by the Spirit, sir, I say; I am convinced of it. She scrambled back to her place, opened the book, and made me look at the picture; and these are the words she said. Pointing with her first finger, her little tongue was loosed, as, pointing to the Saviour on the Cross that was painted above Dr. Watts’ hymn,
‘Alas! and did my Saviour bleed?
And did my Sovereign die?’
she said this little sermon in baby words: ― “That is the Lord Jesus―God. I prays to Him. They run great nails into His hands and feet, and then He died, and then they put Him into the grave; but in three days He rose up again, and now He is (pointing up with her finger) gone up into heaven; and soon the trumpet shall sound, and then He will come down again and I shall go back there with Him into heaven. ‘And so you shall, my sweet child,’ said I, in the height of astonishment, as I clasped her to my heart and covered her with kisses, whilst my inner cry was, ‘May I become as this little child! Lord help me.’ As to gainsaying the truth of Scripture, I could not. The spirit, Who led that pretty babe to believe, opened my eyes to see the truth as it is in a crucified, buried, risen, ascended and returning Saviour!”
O Modernist! You who asperse the name of Jesus and deny that He is God; you must be confounded surely by the faith of this precious child who knew, Spirit taught, that “Jesus is God.” The world by wisdom knew not God―this may be true of you―must be true of you. Things are hidden from you, for the devil has blinded your eyes, that were revealed to this dear babe. “Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.” You cannot share Christ’s glory if you deny Him here. You must take your place with the outcast and unbelievers forever.