“Where are you going?” said Jonathan to two small girls as they walked along.
“We’re going to the children’s mission school,” answered Lena and Bertha.
“Oh, I’d like to go with you,” said Jonathan.
“Come along then,” replied the girls.
Jonathan was a little Jewish boy, six years old. At the mission school he received a kind welcome. When he saw so many children, all of whom were strangers, he felt shy, and stayed close to Lena and Bertha.
When the children were all assembled, the teacher opened school with a very earnest prayer to the Lord Jesus. Then she told them of how that when He was on earth He called the little children to Himself and blessed them, saying, “Suffer the little children to come unto Me,” Mark 10: 14. To Jonathan it all seemed like a dream; it was like being in another world, and hearing a new language. He could not take his eyes off the teacher. Gladly would he have listened to hear more of this wonderful Saviour, but the lesson was soon over and then the teacher took the children out under the trees, where they spent some time singing and playing.
When Jonathan got home his mother asked him where he had been. “Oh, Mother,” he said, “I’ve been to the mission school, and I wish you would let me go there every day.”
“My child!” said his mother in astonishment. “Why do you want to go there?”
“Oh, they sing there, and tell nice stories,” he answered; “I went with Lena and Bertha, and I should like to go every day.”
His mother was silent for a moment; then she said, “Well, you may go.” Jonathan kissed and thanked her.
From then on, a new life began within the boy; as the flower opens in the sunshine, so the heart of Jonathan unfolded beneath the beams of God’s love. The dead prayers which he heard at home could not satisfy the desire he felt to learn more of the Friend of little children, who came from heaven to earth “to seek and to save that which was lost.” Luke 19: 10; “Who gave Himself for our sins,” so that we might have life. Jonathan thirsted for that “water” which we can only get from the Lord Jesus, who gives it freely to all who come to Him.
One day at the school the teacher was telling the children the story of Calvary, and of the sufferings of the Lord Jesus, who was crucified there. “The Lord Jesus suffered all this for us, that we might have eternal life, and live with Him in heaven,” she explained. A solemn pause followed, and then the teacher said, “Let us pray and give thanks.” The children responded, “Yes, let’s do.” Streams of grace flowed down from heaven that day and there was “joy in heaven” (Luke 15:7). Little Jonathan went home, his face shining with happiness, and exclaimed, “Oh Mother, the Saviour died for us, for you, for me, for Father and oh, for everyone.”
The mother’s face flushed with crimson. Then after the first moment of her embarrassment she said, “Jonathan, never let me hear these words again.” But the child, filled with deep earnest joy, pressed again the words on her soul: “The Saviour died for you, and for me, and for Father and for everyone.”
“Who told you this?” she asked, hastily.
“The teacher,” replied Jonathan.
“Don’t you ever say those words again, my boy, because it is not true. These things are not for us; do you hear what I say?”
Poor Jonathan stood like one struck by lightning; then he went back to school, weeping.
“Why do you cry, Jonathan?” the teacher asked kindly.
“Oh,” answered Jonathan, “Mother told me that it is not true that the Saviour died for us, and that these things are not for us”; and again his eyes filled with tears.
“Dear Jonathan,” said the teacher, “God can open the ears of those who do not know His love. Pray for your mother, and steadfastly believe that the Lord Jesus died for you and your parents.”
“Is it true?” asked Jonathan again “Yes,” declared his teacher; “all that I have told you about Jesus is true,” and then, putting her hands upon his curly head, she prayed that God would bless the dear boy, and give the knowledge of Himself to his parents.
Jonathan was quiet; the teacher pressed him to her heart, kissed him, and sent him back home. Then she went to her room and prayed for that Jewish family.
She never saw Jonathan again, for his father forbade him to go any more to the mission school. Great tears rolled down the boy’s cheeks, but he did not rebel. Then a hard time began for him. Often he wished to be taken to heaven. Sadly, he watched Lena and Bertha as they passed him on the way to school, and often he was inclined to go with them to school; but no, he must be obedient and stay at home. His drooping spirit was reflected in his little sad face.
One cold winter evening, a small boy might have been seen standing atop a tree trunk before the window of the mission school. Though a cold north wind was blowing, and he wore neither hat nor coat, he had but one object — to get one look at the happy children inside; nothing more. It was Jonathan. The boy was happy, his cheeks aglow, his eyes alight with pleasure.
Inside the school, all was joy and gladness. He heard Lena singing a child’s hymn and Jonathan felt great joy and happiness. Then all the children sang, “From heaven above He came,” and when the last line died away, Jonathan went home unobserved as he came, but in a different state of mind.
ML 12/10/1967