AT NOON the thieves stopped to eat the buns that Mother had packed for Philip. The little fellow bowed his head, as he always did at home, to thank God for the gift of daily bread, but when he opened his eyes he saw three angry frowns. Father thought it was time to explain where they were going, so he began.
“There’s a big empty house, Phillip, just outside the city. No one is living there now, but a very rich family used to live there and now they have gone away for the winter and they have left plenty for us. There’s jewelry and silverware more than we can carry. But it is locked and barred, all but a little window in the third story, just big enough for you to crawl through. The ladder is ready and that’s your job tonight and an easy one it is too.”
Philip used to think it was fun to do things like that, but now there was a lump in his throat and he felt as if he could not speak. At last he said, “Father, I am never going to steal again.”
“Why not?” asked one of the men.
“Because that is what Jesus died for, and I’m never going to steal again.”
The name of Jesus in Philip’s quiet voice made all the men angry. They talked and scolded and frightened and laughed at him, but all he would say was, “That’s what Jesus died for, and I’m never going to steal again.”
All the long afternoon they walked towards the city, and in the dark evening they reached the house, standing alone with plenty of trees to hide the thieves. Philip’s heart was beating hard as the men held the ladder steady in the cement walk, against the window.
“Now, Philip,” said Father, “Climb up.”
He had scarcely time to say “No,” for his father seized him, shook him and kicked him with angry words scarcely above a whisper. But Philip would not move. He only repeated when his father stopped, “That’s what Jesus died for, and I’m never going to steal again.”
One of the thieves saw that it was no use to punish the boy, so he came up and whispered in his ear, “You don’t need to steal. It won’t be your fault. Just open the window and leave the rest to us.”
Philip thought a moment. Perhaps it would not be his fault really. He listened to the devil’s temptations and he climbed the ladder.
It was very dark and very high. Philip looked down at the faces of the three thieves towards him. “Hold the ladder tight, Daddy,” he whispered.
“I’m holding it. Go on.”
Philip climbed to the second story and looked down again. It was a long way down but he could still see the three thieves at the foot of the ladder and he could see — or thought he could see — a man — two men, coming quickly around the corner of the house. The thieves saw them at the same moment. They let go the ladder and ran, up over the fence and across the fields, and the ladder slipped and fell.
The two policemen picked up from the ground a little broken body.
Again Philip was laid upon the cleanest, whitest bed you can imine, and again he didn’t know anything about it. For days he lay in the hospital, not feeling anything at all, and the doctor thought he would die.
One evening, a new nurse came to the room where Philip was lying, a new nurse with a very white cap and uniform, and a very tender heart. She saw the little boy and did not know who he was, but he was wide awake now and there were deep wrinkles in his forehead.
“What’s wrong, little boy,” she asked kindly, “Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Then what is the trouble?” she tried to smooth out the wrinkles. “Could I help you?”
Philip turned his face away and it was some moments before he answered, “I want to go to heaven, and I — can’t.”
“Yes you can,” she answered quickly. “The Lord Jesus loves little children. He took them up in His arms when He was here. He loves you, Philip, and He wants to have you with Him in heaven. Don’t you know that He died for you?”
“Not for me,” said Philip, and the wrinkles grew deeper.
“Yes, for you, Philip. He died on the cross to wash away our sins, Trust Him and He will save you.”
But Philip only repeated sadly, “Not for me. You don’t know how bad I am.”
The nurse was silent for a moment, quietly asking God to teach her how to show this little boy that Jesus loved him. Then she opened her Bible, and turned over the pages to Luke, chapter 23. “Is a thief bad enough for you, Philip?” she asked, and she wondered why his pale face flushed as he answered, “Yes.”
Then she read the most wonderful story in the world, the story of the death of the Son of God. Do you know the story, boys and girls? Do you remember how they spit in His blessed face and pounded great nails through His hands and feet, and ever God turned away from His sufferings in those hours of darkness. And even when the pain was worse than we can think of, Jesus turned in loving kindness to the thief who confessed Him as Lord, and said, “Today shall thou be with Me in Paradise.”
When the nurse had finished reading she looked up at Philip. “That thief is in heaven, Philip. Can you go now?”
“Yes,” he answered, and the deep wrinkles were all smoothed out. “Why?” she asked.
“Because the Lord Jesus died for me.” His face was full of happiness as he repeated over and over, “He died for me, and He loves me, and I am going to be with Him.”
The next evening the same nurse came again in her clean white uniform, and her very first visit was to Philip’s room. She found the white covers smoothed evenly over the empty bed, and she knew at once that Philip had gone to be with Jesus.
Would you like to go to be with Jesus too? Jesus loves you and longs to have you, but you cannot go to heaven in your sins. They must be put away before you can enter that bright home above, and that is why the Lord Jesus endured that awful suffering, bearing our sins in His own body on the tree, so that He might save sinners like you and me. Will you believe in Him as Philip did? If you do you will be able to say, “The Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me.” Gal. 2:2020I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me. (Galatians 2:20).
ML-09/20/1970