ONCE upon a time, my sister and I were V. staying in an hotel, close to a beautiful blue lake in Italy. There were a great many people in the house, and among them two little boys, with curling, fair hair, rosy cheeks, and bright blue eyes. They were noisy, merry, healthy little fellows, and we could hear them racing up and down the long corridors, with shouts of laughter that made us laugh too, as we sat quietly over our books or work.
We soon found out they were the children of an invalid German gentleman and his wife, who had rooms at the end of the passage that led past our doors. The poor sick father evidently did not much care for the noisy play of his restless little sons, for they were seldom in his room, and, when not out walking with their English nurse, they mostly made a play room, as I have told you, of the long corridors.
My sister and I, being both very fond of children, set our door open one evening, and without much difficulty, enticed the small German boys to come in. Karl and Fritz they said were their names, and that they were five and six years old. They could speak English prettily, and soon made themselves quite at home in our sitting-room; with busy fingers opening our workboxes or photograph books, and wanting to know all about everything that they could find or see, just like you English children do.
They had not been long with us before we began to speak to them about Jesus, and how He loves little children; and how happy it is to belong to Him. Karl and Fritz opened their blue eyes wide, and came close to us to try to understand whom we were talking about, but plainly could make nothing of it. Then we found out that our dear wee visitors had never heard of God or the Lord Jesus; they did not know one word of all the beautiful things you have been taught. Was not that sad? They listened though, keeping quiet for a long time for such restless little boys, until it was time to run off to bed.
The next evening came a bang at our door, and then two merry faces popped in. We soon began to tell them some more about Jesus, for nothing pleased them so much, and when we said we would teach them to sing about Him, I cannot tell you how delighted they were. So we sang a little hymn, that I have no doubt many of you have learned:
“Jesus loves me This I know,
For the Bible tells me so:
Little ones to Him belong;
They are weak, but He is strong.
“Jesus loves me! He who died
Heaven’s gate to open wide;
He will wash away my sin;
Let a little child come in.”
Our dear little boys sang out well, shouting the words with such glee that, even when the tune did not come quite right, it was pleasant to hear them, for they were so much in earnest. We had to talk over every line to make them quite understand it, and then sing it again and again. Afterward we showed them a Bible, and explained that it was God’s book, and Karl looked very grave as he handled it, but Fritz only jumped about the room, clapping his hands and singing, “Yes, Jesus loves me. The Bible tells me so,” like a dear little silly boy that he was.
They came for several evenings after this, and learned the hymn so well, that we thought it was time we took another. We began to teach them:
“When He cometh, when He cometh,
To make up His jewels,
All His jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own.
“Like the stars of the morning,
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in their beauty,
Bright gems for His crown.
“He will gather, He will gather,
The gems for His kingdom;
All the pure ones, all the bright ones,
His loved and His own.
“Little children, little children,
Who love their Redeemer,
Are the jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own.”
I cannot tell you what a great joy it was to dear little Karl when he heard that Jesus was really coming back again someday, and that we who love Him should then see Him, and go with Him into His beautiful home.
“Oh! will He come soon?” asked the boy, his face all in a glow— “will He come soon? I should be so glad.”
“Yes, dear child, He says He is coming soon; we don’t know how soon; it might be tonight, or we may have to wait a little while, but He certainly will come.”
“But will He only take the little children when He comes?” he inquired very earnestly; “won’t He take any big people to be gems in His crown?”
“Oh yes, darling,” I answered, “that He will. He will take all who love Him. However big and old, or however young and small they may be. They will all go together to Jesus’ bright home, when He comes to make up His jewels.”
“Then,” asked Karl, lifting very earnest eyes to my face, “will He take my papa too?”
I could only draw Karl up to me, and kiss his little anxious face, as I answered, “You may be sure, darling child, He won’t leave any behind who belong to Him.”
“But does my papa belong to Him? Does he love Jesus?” urged Karl.
“I do not know your papa, Karl, and so cannot answer your questions.” Karl’s bright face had clouded over, and all he could say was, “I must ask Papa; oh, I must ask Papa if he loves Jesus, and if he will be glad when He comes.”
And with these words on his lips, he drew Fritz out of the room, and shut the door behind them.
Day after day went by, and the quick steps of our little friends never hurried up to the door, and their merry, prattling voices were not heard in our room. At last, one day, I met the children on the broad staircase.
They tried to run past me, turning their rosy faces away, but I caught hold of Karl, and asked—
“Why don’t you and Fritz come and see US these evenings?”
He struggled to get away, saying, “Oh, we daren’t—we mustn’t—let me go;” and then he was off.
We were both so sorry, for we had grown to love our little Germans, and we were sure they loved us too. We feared their parents might have prevented their coming because we spoke to them of the things of God. Well, we prayed about it, and made up our minds we would go and call on the German lady and gentleman, and beg leave for the children to come to us again.
So, having sent to ask if they would see us, the next evening we went down the long corridor to their room. Our hearts sank when we first saw the father of dear little Karl, for, before he had said a word, we felt that his child’s eager question was sadly answered by his unhappy face. It was not only that he looked terribly ill, as he lay upon the sofa, propped up with many cushions, but his poor, dying face had, oh! such a hard, miserable expression on it, and his eyes wandered round so restlessly and fretfully, telling but too plainly that he knew nothing of the love of God, or peace through our Lord Jesus Christ. After a few kind words of sympathy about his illness, we turned to the mother, who sat with an anxious, weary look on her face, by the side of the sofa, and told her how much we loved her bonny boys, and how sorry we had been not to see them of late. She answered she was afraid they were very noisy little fellows, and that they must have tired us, and then she looked at her husband, as if she wanted him to say the rest. He thanked us for our kindness to his boys, but added he did not wish their religious education to be interfered with, and so would rather they did not go to us anymore.
Very gently we replied that we would not wish to interfere with any education that he was giving his boys, but that we certainly had talked with them about Jesus, the Saviour whom God in His love had given to die for sinners, and that the story of His life and death must be sweet to all who felt their need of Him, whatever their religious training.
His pale face grew red as he answered angrily, “I don’t wish my boys to hear such things. I don’t believe in God or the Bible; and I wish my sons to think with me.”
We tried in vain to get the poor sick man to see how awful it was for him to be living or dying without God and without hope; and we begged him at least to let his dear little boys hear of a Saviour who could fill their hearts with gladness, and their eternity with fullness of joy. The mother looked greatly distressed, but the father was only angry; and fearing we should perhaps make him more ill than he was, if we farther excited him, we got up and said goodbye, and sorrowfully left the room.
A few days later I saw Karl once again. I was going along the corridor and he was running full tilt towards me. He put his head down, and would have run past me, but I caught him with a hand on each shoulder, and kneeling down so as to bring my face on a level with his, I said slowly, “Darling little Karl, listen: Jesus loves you; this you know, for the Bible tells you so. Never forget that. And the Bible is God’s word, and it is all true.” Karl nodded his head emphatically two or three times, as if to say that with all his heart he did believe it, but he did not speak. I kissed the sweet, rosy cheek for the last time, and he ran on. I never saw him again. They left the hotel soon after this.
And so my story is ended! Do you say, “But that is no end at all”? Well, no more it is, but I have told you all I know about Karl and Fritz. I sometimes pray there may be a bright and beautiful ending to their story by-and-by-that when Jesus comes to number up His jewels, my dear wee German friends may be found among the little children who love the Redeemer, and be bright gems for His crown.
Will you pray for them too? And, oh, do thank God, if you have parents who love to talk to you of Jesus.
D. & A. C.