"We Love Him Because He First Loved Us."

Narrator: Chris Genthree
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A man who had a house surrounded by beautiful grounds, was looking from his room one evening, when he saw a boy come across the lawn, evidently bent on mischief. He was trampling down the flowers, treading over the beds, and pulling down the branches from the trees.
The man went down the steps, across the lawn, and, before the boy had seen his approach, he had placed his hand firmly on his shoulder.
The boy struggled hard to escape, but his attempts were useless; a strong hand had secured him.
“Now, my boy,” said the man, “answer me one question, Which is the best flower in this garden?”
The boy struggled, but finding there was no escape from the quiet eye and firm grasp of the man he had injured, he looked round, and, after a few minute’s pause, he answered,
“That rose is the best”; pointing to a beautiful moss-rose, just bursting into full bloom. The man, still keeping one hand on the boy’s shoulder, reached out his other hand, and, plucking the rose in all its beauty, gave it to the boy, and releasing him as he did it,
“There, take it, my boy,” he said.
The boy was amazed, Looking into the face of his strange benefactor, he asked,
“Ain’t you going to have me punished, sir?”
“No,” was the reply, “I am giving you the best flower in my garden. You will never come and trample down my flower-beds again, will you?”
Never, sir, as long as I live!” was the emphatic reply; “but, please, sir, ain’t there some little errand I could do for you?”
Free forgiveness and a token of love had won the pardoned boy’s heart. From that hour he was the willing servant of his friend. And many a time that boy would be seen, cap in hand, standing at that man’s gate; with the loving petition on his lips,
“Please, sir, is there any little job I could do for you?” You may be sure the request was not refused.
Have not we as sinners trampled down on God’s holy will and Word, and grieved Him many, many times? And how has He treated us? He forgave us, and gave us Jesus, His own dear Son, the choicest Gift His love could give. Shall we not in return give Him our all?
“Were the whole realm of nature ours,
That were an offering far too small;
Love that transcends our highest powers,
Demands our soul, our life, our all.”
ML 01/19/1941