The following year the smallpox broke out among the Indians in the station where Joe was, and caused the death of many of them. Three daughters of one of the missionaries died also, and there was no one but their bereaved father to conduct the funeral.
The missionary with whom Joe had had the conversation came over to see the sorrowing parent and to speak words of comfort. While doing so a message came that a poor Indian was dying under the fence, and wanted to speak to him. He at once went to the spot, and found there a man in the last stage of the terrible plague of small pox. His face was so disfigured that it was almost impossible to recognize the sufferer.
“Who are you?” said the missionary. “Are you Joe?”
“Yes, I’m Joe.”
“Is there anything you want to say to me, my poor friend?”
“I’m nearly gone, but it is all right. Only I would like you to take a message.”
“What is it, Joe?”
“I can’t see you, but I can see Jesus. You know that young man who preached that hot Sunday afternoon; and you know that my life has been a changed one since then. If ever you meet him, tell him that after that sermon he preached I became a Christian. I’ll soon be with Jesus; and one day I’m going to meet him in heaven.”
So died Joe, the once-wicked but now saved Indian, believing that God loved him, and had given His Son to die in his stead, so that through faith in Jesus he was forgiven, and made fit for the mansion the Lord had prepared for him.
So will any sinner who believes that gospel, that God loved him and that Christ died for him, be saved and satisfied in life, sure of heaven should he come to die, and be with Christ in glory Forever and ever. Oh, dear unsaved reader, believe the “glad and glorious” message now.
ML 03/29/1959