A little face on a pillow,
The hospital nurse close by,
Watching a little sufferer,
Who, the doctor says, must die.
“What will he say?” thus she ponders,
“When he learns the sad, sad truth,
That death, with its icy finger,
Will bear him away in his youth?”
“But I must tell him now, dear lamb!”
And low she bends o’er the bed;
Soft and tender her tone of voice,
While the dreaded words are said:
“You are not so well today, dear,
And soon you’ll not need our love,
Home to Jesus you are going—
To His own bright home above.”
And she gazed on the fair young face,
But she read no sorrow there!
Only a look of glad surprise,
Relieving her heart of care.
Oh! that will be so nice,” he cried;
“And what do you think I’ll say
To the Lord who loved the children
And would not send them away?”
“Lord Jesus! when You were on earth,
You bid little children come,
.11id so I’m coming, coming soon,
To live in Your own bright home!”
Dear little ones, who read this tale
Do you know the love of God?
And have your sins been washed away
1 n the Saviour’s precious blood?
Only that blood can make you clean,
And fit for heaven above.
For all is pure and holy there,
In that home of light and love.
Messages of God’s Love 5/17/1908