A true story of China.
In that far-off Land of China,
(Where teeming millions dwell)
God’s grace hath wondrous trophies—
Of one I fain would tell.
‘Twas a golden, Lord’s Day morning,
The flowers were sweet and fair;
And the happy birds above them
With music filled the air.
When forth from their humble dwel lings,
And into the narrow street,
Some children passed in the sunlight
With swift and eager feet.
They paused at an open doorway–
Then entered noiselessly;
While amidst them toddled Shudza,
A bright-eyed boy of three.
His face was sweet and winsome,
(He loved that House of Prayer)
So he passed within unchallenged,
For all were welcome there.
Then, down on a lowly footstool
He sat most reverently;
He wanted to heat of Jesus—
This Chinese boy of three.
The Teacher smiled on Shudza,
Her face was calm and sweet;
Her heart was full of the lesson
Just learned at her Master’s feet.
So her voice grew low, and tender,
In the Lord’s Day morning-tide,
As she read to the listening children
Of Jesus crucified.
She told them again the story,
How the Saviour came from above;
How willing He was to save them—
So great His infinite love.
And again she read from her Bible,
That Jesus had set them free,
By bearing the whole of their burden,
And dying on Calvary.
As dear, little Shudza listened,
A tear stood in his eye;
So new was the sweet “old story,”
Why Jesus came to die.
Then his spirit stirred within him
(This tiny boy of three,)
As there dawned on his childish vision—
“Then this was all for me.”
And his bosom heaved in wonder,
A light came in his eyes,
While his little hands were lifted,
In strange, yet glad surprise.
Then his burning words came quickly,
And yet most fearlessly—
“O many thanks to Jesus,
Because He died for me.”
Did the angels carry the tidings,
That in that quiet room,
A little child to his Saviour,
In simple faith had come?
That a Chinese boy had trusted,
A little child of three;
And to his faith in Jesus,
Had witnessed fearlessly?
I know not, for such sweet visions
Are hid from mortal eyes;
But I know that a few days later,
(To Shudza’s glad surprise)
His spirit went straight to Jesus,
The Saviour He loved, and knew—
And the pearly gates were opened
To let little Shudza through.
And that pure, and white, and stainless,
From pain and sorrow free,
Through the merits of the Saviour,
There he shall ever be.
O ye, who have heard of Jesus,
Who love His peerless name,
Will ye spread the Gospel wider,
And tell abroad His fame?
Till boys and girls in China,
And men on land and sea,
Have heard the wondrous story,
How Jesus set them free.
ML 08/29/1909