AH, I CAN’T go alone! I’m afraid to go alone!” said little Janie, when she came to know that she must die. She was only seven years old and had been sick a long time. At last there came a day when the doctor shook his head sadly, and said he could do no more for her.
Now little Janie had often heard of people crossing the “dark river” and entering the “dark valley,” and knew that death was meant by such expressions, and having a childish dread of the dark, looked forward in terror to the time when she should look for the last time on her mother’s face, and the beautiful light of the sun.
“O, Mamma,” she wailed, “how can I go into the dark alone? Can’t you come with me?”
“Gladly would I go, my darling, if I might,” returned the heart-broken mother clasping the sobbing child in her arms and weeping with her, till at last the weary child sank to sleep.
An hour later she woke with a nervous start, and asked, “Mamma, what time is it? Has my teacher come yet?” “Not yet, dear, but she’ll soon be here; she said she would come early today.”
Presently the door-bell rang, and Janie’s face brightened, and her expectant eyes sought the door.
Then the little arms were eagerly extended in glad welcome to a lady who came softly towards her, and kneeling beside her, clasped her with loving arms.
With a sigh of content the little one laid her head upon her friend’s shoulder, whispering, “O, teacher, I wanted you so much today.”
“And why today, dear child, more than any other day?” asked the lady.
“Has no one told you? The doctor told Mamma something, out in the hall, and she cried so hard, and I cried, too, because—because I was afraid.”
“Afraid, darling? Don’t you want to go to the Lord Jesus, who loves you so much?”
“I do love Jesus, teacher, and I want to see Him; but its such a dark way, and I’m afraid to go alone. They put Aunt Mary into a deep, dark pit, and I’m afraid of the dark,” and the weak voice ended in a sob.
“But listen, dearie, its only your body, the house you live in, that’s buried in the dust: You will not go down into the dark, hut up above where all is light, for Jesus is there.”
“Teacher, stay with me tonight, won’t you?” asked the child with pleading eyes, and she passed the remaining hours of the afternoon in fitful slumber, her waking moments soothed by the little Sunday school hymns she loved so well, or by sweet stories of the gentle Shepherd who carries the lambs in His bosom.
The mother sought to sooth her as night came on, by lighting up the room very brightly.
“See, darling,” she said, smoothing the dark hair with loving touch, “its all light now.”
“Yes, Mamma, but it’s dark outside. Oh, I’m afraid to go into the dark alone,” wept the poor little one, her fears coming back to her with the approach of night.
“But, dearie, you won’t be alone. The Lord has promised never to leave us. Well, now, suppose the Lord Jesus stood right here beside you, and you could see Him and hear His voice saying, ‘I will never leave thee,’ would you not believe Him and be happy?”
“Oh, yes; if I could see Him, but I can’t see in the dark,” and a fresh burst of tears showed the reality of her distress.
“Well, dearie, let us tell Jesus about it. He can help when no one else can, and I know He will,” and still clasping the sobbing child, the teacher sank on her knees beside the bed, the mother and purse kneeling beside her. In words so simple that the child herself might have Uttered them, the teacher prayed, pleading that the childish fears might be soothed and the little heart set at rest by a word or a look or a touch of His hand. Then praising, and thanking Him for having heard and answered her prayer.
Rising from their knees, they found the child in a slumber so deep that laying her back on her pillows in no wise disturbed her.
For hours she lay in calm repose and the watchers saw the fever flush fade, the lines of fretfulness and pain give place to a look of peace.
Suddenly the dark eyes opened and the little arms lifted as if in joyful welcome. “Oh, what do I see!” she cried in delighted surprise. “Oh, it’s Jesus; He’s come for me. Now, Mamma,” she continued patting the tearful face bent over her, “you needn’t be sorry for me anymore; I won’t have to go alone. Jesus has come. I’m not afraid now—not afraid—any—more,” and the weak voice trailed off into silence. The hands drop: ped, the light went out of the beautiful eyes, but on the face the smile remained.
Little Janie had gone, but not alone.
She had learned to love the Lord Jesus. She had learned that He was her Friend. That He had died to atone for her sins, so that He might have her in heaven with Him. When she found that death was not going down into the dark, but up into the light to be with her loving Friend, it made her happy and all fear of death was taken away.
Should any little sick children read this story I want them to remember how the Lord Jesus took the little ones in His arms when He lived down here, and to know that He is the very same Jesus now. He died to open heaven’s gate and now he holds out His arms and says, “Come unto Me, . . . and I will give you rest.”
How gladly does Jesus
Free pardon impart
To all who receive Him
By faith in their heart:
And glory is for them,
Their home is above:
Soon Jesus will fetch them
To dwell in His love.
ML 07/17/1904