A lady and gentleman, returning to America from Africa, brought with them a dear little African boy. Upon arrival, he was sent to one of our schools, and he found life in this country of ours, very different from what he had been used to in his own language. I’m afraid the boys and girls weren’t nice to him as they might have been, for they made fun of his dark skin, and gave him the name of “Snowball.” As he had never seen snow, he had no idea why they had given him this name. But one day he found out! When he woke that morning, everywhere he looked, all he could see was a white blanket of snow covering the ground, bushes, trees and houses. He clapped his hands with dight and ran to his lady to ask her to explain to him what had happened to the world while he had been asleep. She told him it was SNOW, and that it had fallen from the sky. He soon learned how to make a snowman and throw snowballs.
His delight at seeing the snow was rather spoiled when he realized why the children had called him “Snowball.” Usually little Snowball was very happy, but he had one trouble. He wished so much that his skin were white like the other children, and wondered how to make it so.
One day, when passing a store wiow, he saw a sign telling of some wonderful kind of soap that would wash things “white as snow.”
“Ah!” thought Snowball, “this is just what I need.”
So he ran home, emptied his tiny bank, and joyfully went back to the store to buy some of this good soap he had seen advertised. That night, before he went to bed, Snowball scrubbed hielf with it, till his skin was shining, but to his disappointment, found himself, if anything, blacker than before. He tried again and again, but with the same results. Poor little Snowball, he didn’t know that he could never wash his skin white like that of other boys and girls!
Some time after this, one evening our little friend was passing a building, when he heard voices singing so hap-pily—
“O, precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow,
No other fount I know—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.”
The words “white as snow” attracted Snowball’s attention, and he quietly entered the building. Sitting right down at the back, he listened carefully while the preacher spoke on,
At the end, the preacher asked that if any were anxious to have their sins washed away in Jesus’ precious blood, they would stay behind and talk with him. The little fellow waited till all were gone, and then shyly spoke to the kind preacher, but found to his surprise that the gentleman had not meant to wash HIM white, but his black heart. He had explained to the preacher how he tried to scrub his skin white, but that it was all no use. It was shown to him that it was more important for him to have ‘his black heart washed white, than his skin.
That night, Snowball put his trust in Jesus, and then he was happy indeed. He knew for certain, that all his sins were gone—washed away in the precious blood that cleanseth from all sin. He knew he would go to heaven some day, to be with Jesus his Saviour.
Are you, my little friends, who read this story, washed as white as snow, in Jesus’ precious blood? You can be, right now, if you really tell Jesus you are a sinner, and ask Him to wash your sins away, for—
“The blood of Jesus Christ, His (God’s) Son cleanseth us from all sin.”
The next day little Snowball went to school happy. He told the boys and girls what he had found out the night before, and said,
“I’d sooner have my heart washed white, and my skin black, than a black, sinful heart and white skin.”
I would too, wouldn’t you? Then pray to Jesus from the bottom of your heart,
“Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow”—and He will.
ML 10/21/1945