During one of the uprisings in China, a missionary and his family were forced to spend the night on the stone floor of the stage of a Chinese theater. It was open in the front, and a customary sleeping ground of tramps, outcasts and professional beggars.
In the morning as the missionary looked about on his surroundings and his family, hungry, footsore and ragged, their bed the hard, cold stone of the stage floor, their bedding the dirt and filth, his little son said, “Daddy!”
“What is it, my dear Jimmy?”
“I think Jesus must have slept in a place like this when He had nowhere to go,” replied the little fellow.
“Yes, my boy, very likely.”
“Then,” added the dear child, “we ought to be glad we are like Jesus, oughtn’t we?”
ML-11/06/1977