For the Little Ones.
I DON’T know where poor Sally’s home had been, or what might have been the trials of her early life. The first time I heard anything about her was in February last year; she came to the Ragged-school in Luke Street, Dublin, and begged to be admitted to the Home, for she was “homeless and desolate.” Her scanty clothing and starved appearance drew forth much pity from the ladies, but they could do nothing for her; the funds were very low, and the Home was quite full, and there were many other applicants, so that the poor girl was sent away — sent away! but where? Her stepmother had turned her out of the only home she had ever known, and she knew nothing of the Lord in heaven, who calls the outcast, saying in loving terms, “Come unto me, I will give you rest.” With a heavy heart she turned from the school-door; she wandered down one street, and then another, and then over the bridge and down Sackville Street. There were plenty of homes around, but none for poor Sally. It length, weary and hungry, she sat down on the steps of Nelson’s Pillar, buried her face in her hands, and wept bitterly.
The short evening was drawing to a close, and Sally was still sitting there, when a messenger-boy came up with a basket on his head. He stopped to speak to the poor girl, asking her what was the matter. At the sound of a kind voice, poor Sally looked up, and the boy saw that she was his own cousin. The sad story was soon told, and the boy told her where his mother lived, and said he was sure she would take her in if she would go, he was too busy to go with her himself. A ray of hope darted into the desolate heart of poor Sally, and a ray of sunshine to her face, and with a quick step she hastened to the home of her aunt. It was a small place in a back court, a kind of open room downstairs, and a more comfortable one above. Sally knocked timidly at the door — no one answered; again she knocked, and then she heard a pair of bare feet coming pattering down the stairs. It was her cousin Biddy. The child soon recognized her, and called out, “Mother! mother! here’s Sally come, and she’s just got no place to go to, mother; mayn’t she come in here?” And the mother, poor as she was, welcomed the poor girl, and they warmed her by the fire, and she shared their scanty meal and bed. Very scanty it was, for the aunt was a widow, and their only support was the money earned by doing coarse needlework — fourpence or sixpence a day. Poor Sally, she could not bear to stay there, and after a while she applied again for admission to the Home.
This time she was admitted. She was about sixteen years of age, a nice-looking girl, with large blue eyes and a thoughtful expression of countenance. She was of an amiable disposition, and gave very little trouble; but at first she very much disliked having to read the Bible, or to be questioned on its doctrines. “It is a Protestant book,” she said; “I will never be a Protestant.”
Two other girls who were in school at the same time, felt as she did, and they strengthened each other in their old belief. But by slow degrees the mind of poor Sally opened. She saw herself a sinner in God’s sight, and she saw that in the Bible Jesus was revealed as the Saviour of sinners. She thirsted for the “water of life,” and only through Christ could she find that which satisfied her, even “a well of water, springing up into everlasting life.” By grace she was at last brought to believe in him whose blood cleanseth from all sin. For eleven months Sally remained in the Home, “growing in grace and in the knowledge of Jesus Christ.” And then sickness came. The kind matron did all she could to make her better, but she grew worse and worse; it was evident that she was in a rapid decline. At her own request admission was sought for into an hospital. Before she went, one of the ladies said to her, “Sally, suppose we should never meet again; tell me what is your hope?” She replied, “All my hope is in Jesus, who died for me, and washed me in his blood; my sins are forgiven; we shall meet again above” (Acts 10:4343To him give all the prophets witness, that through his name whosoever believeth in him shall receive remission of sins. (Acts 10:43) Col. 1:1414In whom we have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins: (Colossians 1:14)).
For the two weeks Sally lay in the hospital, not a cloud dimmed the brightness of her faith; she knew in whom she had believed, and was fully persuaded that he was able to keep that which she had committed unto him. Oh, how often she thanked God that she had been brought to the ragged-school, where she had heard of Jesus, the Good Shepherd who had followed her in her wanderings, and led her by the right way, even when she knew it not. But now she knew the guiding hand, and the presence of the Saviour made all things light.
Sally is at HOME now. No more sorrow, no more wandering; but there are many, many left needing the hand of love and kindness to be outstretched to them.
Little Christian reader, will you not pray for them; will you not do what you can to lead the helpless destitute wanderer to Jesus? What would have become of poor Sally but for the hand of Christian love stretched out to succor and to lead her to Christ? “The love of Christ constraineth us.” May it constrain every young disciple to do what heart and hand and lips can do to magnify the grace given unto us, as these dear Christian friends did in “The Wanderer’s Home.” And if the little reader does not yet know Jesus, may the thought of HIS kindness to poor Sally lead him to consider what a gentle, loving, faithful Saviour he is neglecting. Ah, dear little reader, Jesus died: yes, died in all the pain and shame, and anguish of the cross for sinners. Think of that! think how he must have loved sinners to go and shed his own blessed heart’s blood on Calvary for them. Oh then, neglect not such a Saviour any longer. Go to him at once. Believe in him. He says, “Come unto ME and I will give you rest.”