Jamsie was just seven years old when his dear mother died. He felt very lonely, and as our story opens he was standing at the window of the little woolen mill across from his home, watching the shuttles fly.
Twelve o’clock came, and all the noise stopped. Jamsie turned to leave, but one of the workers hurried to the window and spoke a few words to him about the Lord Jesus.
“But who is that?”
“Oh, Jamsie, don’t you know about the Lord Jesus?”
Jamsie shook his head and again asked, “Who is He?”
“Did you never hear, Jamsie, about the One who lives up in the bright glory, who always sees us, and who loves us so?” asked Mrs. M.
“Oh, is that the Good Man who lives up in the sky? I’ve heard about Him, but I never knew His name before.” Then in a rather surprised tone, he asked, “Do YOU know Him?”
“Yes,” replied Mrs. M., with a smile, “and I love Him, and would like you to know and love Him too, Jamsie.”
Seeing the little boy looking so interested, she said, “If you will come to my house tomorrow afternoon, I will tell you more about the Lord Jesus.”
Jamsie readily promised, and when the time came he was in the room of his new friend, to hear the wonderful story of Jesus and His love.
Mrs. M. was alone at the time, and she began to tell him in simple words of that wonderful love that was filling and overflowing her own heart; of how the Lord Jesus, the Son of God, had left the bright glory to come and die, to bear our punishment; of how He had been nailed upon the cross, and put into the grave; of how He rose again, and is now in the glory as Saviour. It was the first time that the story had fallen upon the little one’s ears, and he listened with breathless attention. His earnest, up-turned face and eyes fixed upon his friend, showed that it was all sinking down deep into his heart.
“But does the Lord Jesus know me?” Jamsie asked earnestly.
“Yes, dear boy, He knows and loves you.”
A shadow crept over his little face as he said falteringly, “Ah, but—I’m bad.”
“Jesus knows that,” said his friend, “but still He loves you.”
“But I’ve told lies,” continued Jamsie, with his eyes still fixed upon her face.
“Jesus knows that, but He loves you,” said his friend.
The little boy’s voice sank to a whisper as he said, “But I have said bad, bad words, too.”
“Yes, Jamsie, the Lord Jesus knows how bad you are, but He died for you, just because you were bad, and because He loves you. He wants you to let in His love, and to be His,” said Mrs. M.
Jamsie was silent for a little, and then he burst out, “Oh, I want to love Him, and to be His; what will I say to Him?”
It was Mrs. M.’s turn to be silent now, for it was the first time that an “inquirer” had turned to her to ask the way, and she was afraid to tell him wrongly.
“I do so want to love Him,” again pleaded Jamsie earnestly: “Tell me what to say.”
“Well, Jamsie, just tell the Lord Jesus so,” she answered. “He will hear you and make you His.”
As they knelt together in that little room, Jamsie covered his face with both his hands, and sobbed out,
“Lord Jesus, I’m bad but You’s good, and loves me—make me Yours.”
It was a touching, but a solemn scene, for Mrs. M. felt that this was the work of the Spirit of God in the child’s soul, and with bowed head, and in broken words amid her tears, she too, prayed and commended the little one to God. And if it was said by the heavenly messenger about Saul of Tarsus, “Behold, he prayeth,” so also it was said now.
The look of peace rested upon Jamsie’s face as they rose from their knees, and after a little more talk, he kissed his friend and bade her good night. But after going half-way down the stairs he returned and asked earnestly, “If I feel turning bad again, what will I do?”
“Just tell the Lord Jesus, Jamsie.”
ML 03/21/1954