“Jesus loves me, He who died Heaven’s gate to open wide; He will wash away my sin, Let a little child come in.
“Yes, Jesus loves me;
Yes, Jesus loves me;
Yes, Jesus loves me;
The Bible tells me so.”
A young Mexican boy, standing at the door of his adobe hut, saw the singer as she moved toward him down the street. She didn’t appear to be in any particular haste, and she had time to sing more than one stanza of the song in her clear Spanish before she reached the boy.
“Where did you learn that?” he called to her.
“At Sunday school,” she answered, rather surprised. “Here is someone who wants a Friend. Poor boy, he looks troubled. He needs Jesus,” she thought.
“I’d like to learn that song. How can I do it?”
“Just go to Sunday school, that’s all. The teacher there will show you how to sing it.”
The boy’s face saddened. “Oh, I can’t do that. The teacher wouldn’t want me there.”
“Oh, yes, he would. He’s right in that building yonder. You knock on the door and ask him.”
The girl’s twinkling brown eyes and cheery voice encouraged little Jose. That’s just what he’d do — he’d go that very minute.
Of course the teacher welcomed him and extended a special invitation to the Sunday school the following Lord’s day. It was a memorable day for Jose. He heard the children singing, “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so,” and you may be sure it did not require many repetitions for him to memorize the entire hymn in both Spanish and English. Best of all, the words that Jose sang penetrated his very being and he believed them in his heart and soul.
“Yes, Jesus loves Jose, the bad schoolboy,” he breathed, “for the Bible tells me so. I wish my mother could come to this place and learn ‘Jesus Loves Me.’”
“May I bring my mother next time?” he asked the teacher.
“We’d be delighted to have her come.”
Jose raced home. “Mother, you may go with me to the next meeting,” he beamed. “The teacher said he’d be delighted; and, Mother, you’ll hear about Jesus. I’ve never been so happy before.”
“I won’t be there,” she contradicted with a frown. “I’m glad you enjoyed the class, but I’ve no time for it.”
No time! Jose had felt that of course everyone would respond to his joy, but here was real opposition. On Lord’s day he tearfully told his sorrow to the teacher. “Mother won’t come,” he sobbed. “Will you pray for her?”
“The Scripture tells us to cast all our care upon the Lord, Jose. When the children come, we shall all kneel and tell the Lord about it.” If anyone had looked in upon that room a few minutes later, he would have seen many little girls, their bowed heads covered with kerchiefs, and many little boys all kneeling beside rough-hewn benches while the faithful teacher made Jose’s request known to God. “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.” Luke 11:9, 109And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. 10For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened. (Luke 11:9‑10).
It was not long before the prayers were answered, and Mother accompaed Jose. She heard the teacher speak to the children about their sins and their need of a Saviour, and how Jesus could meet that need. She learned that Jesus died on Calvary’s cross to save her from eternal darkness. She believed that He died for her and confessed Him as her personal Saviour. Peace, joy, and rest took possession of her soul. After being baptized, she took her place with the other believers.
Jose was very thankful to the Lord, but now there was his father. Would his father, the city policeman, go to Sunday school?
“No, that’s not for me,” was the disappointing reply. “It’s all right for you and Mother but not for me.” Again the boy was cast upon the Lord and asked his dear friends to pray with him.
On a certain Lord’s day after weeks of pleading, poor Jose was brokenhearted. “I cannot go without my father. He is not saved; he does not know Jesus; he is lost.”
“Why don’t you get off to your Sunday school, boy? Be off.”
“I’m waiting for you, Daddy. I will not go without you.”
“I told you it isn’t for me, son. Run along or you’ll be tardy.”
Several minutes elapsed, but the lad was adamant. He couldn’t leave his father.
“Aren’t you going?”
“Yes, Father, but when I go, you’re going with me.”
It was a wonderful moment for Jose when he and his policeman father entered the Sunday school to hear the story of Jesus, the only One who can forgive sin. The heart of this proud, sinful man was touched by the Spirit of God, and he bowed his head over the Word he held in his hands.
The little girl who was first heard singing, “Jesus Loves Me,” had let her light shine. “I will always sing as I go home from Sunday school,” she said to herself. “Maybe others will hear and learn to love Jesus.”
ML 07/19/1959