Mark 10
CALLING one day upon a poor old man who is blind, I found him with his little granddaughter (a child between five and six years of age) sitting upon his knee. During the time I was reading and talking to him, the child appeared to listen intently to what I said, when, after having closed my Bible, I drew her towards myself, and asked, if she could tell me who loved her.
She replied, “Yes, Mammy, Daddy, and Grandfather and you.”
I said, “Yes, dear, so we all do, but there is One who loves you more than all of us put together, and who wants you to love Him, Can you tell me now?” She shook her head and looked wonderingly at me. I said, “Jesus it is who loves you so tenderly.” And as simply as I could, I endeavored to tell her of the love of God, in giving His only Son to save her, and all who believe on Him; how He blessed little children when on earth, died on the cross for them, and is now in glory with His Father, and soon will come again, to take those who love Him, to be with Him forever.
Charlotte stood almost breathless, and her eyes beamed with delight, and then putting her tiny hands upon mine, exclaimed. “Does Jesus really, really love me? Then I’m sure I do, I must love Him. Oh, it is nice: do tell me some more, Missis, ‘bout Jesus.”
I was told in the town, some days afterward, that a woman went to see the child’s friends during the afternoon, after I had been there, when Charlotte inquired the first thing, if she loved Jesus, and if she thought Jesus loved her as much as that Missis had told her? When I called the following week, she ran to meet me, and begged me to sit down, and let her bring her stool quite close; “‘Cause I want you to tell me more about Him (pointing upwards), Jesus. I do love Him so now, and I know where He is; up there.” When I had talked some time to the child, she requested to sit on her grandfather’s knee, to hear me read to him. I remarked, “You love your grandfather, Charlotte.” “Yes,” she said, “I do.” She then told me she loved Jesus the best of all. Before I left, she asked, “Who telled me all about Him?” I said, God’s own word, the Bible, told us of all His love, and what He did and said, and though He was now in heaven, He could see and hear us.
“I don’t know how; I can’t see Him,” she said, and ran to look up out of the window.
I fully satisfied her of the truth of what I had told her, by taking her hand, and with one of her little fingers tracing some of the beautiful, simple passages, word by word―though she could not read them, of course―assuring her, I was showing her God’s own precious word, every bit of which was true. All doubts seemed gone, when I left this wee lamb, most happy, and saying, “I do want to see Jesus.”