A Boy's Story Some years ago as I was about to close a prayer meeting, a young man got up and urged all those men who had not yet accepted Christ to do so that night. And in closing his speech, he told a story.
"I once had a father and mother who cared more for my soul than for anything else. My father died and my mother was more anxious for me than ever. Sometimes, she would come and put her loving arms around my neck, and she would plead with me to accept Christ. After my father was dead she used to tell me that she was lonely because I wasn't a Christian. I sympathized with her; but declared that I wanted to see a little of the world. I did not want to become a Christian in early life.
"Sometimes I would wake up after midnight and hear a voice in my mother's chamber. I would hear my mother crying to God for me, her only child—I was very dear to her. At last, I felt I must either become a Christian or go away from her influence, and so I ran away.
"After I had been gone a long time I heard from home indirectly. My mother was sick, and I knew what it meant. She was pining for me, and I knew that her heart was broken on account of me and my wayward life. I thought I would go home and ask my mother to forgive me, but my second thought was that if I did I could not stay under the same roof without becoming a Christian. My rebellious heart said: 'I will not go.'
"When I heard again, my mother was much worse and I thought, suppose she should die and I never saw her again—I could never forgive myself I started for home. There was no train so I took the coach and arrived just after dark. The moon was shining as I began the walk to my mother's house. On my way, I thought, I would go past the graveyard, climb over the fence and go to the grave where my father was buried.
"As I approached, my heart beat more quickly, for by the light of the moon I saw a newly-made grave. The whole story was told. My mother had died too, and for the first time in my life this question came stealing over me: who was going to pray for my lost soul now? Father and mother were both gone now And, young men, I would have given the world if I could have called my mother back, put her arms around my neck and heard her breathe my name in prayer. But her voice was silent forever. She was gone.
"I knelt by the grave, crying that God might have mercy on me and forgive me. I did not leave until the morning dawned, and by then I believed that God, for Christ's sake, had forgiven my sins, and that my mother's God had become mine.
"But, I will never forgive myself. I trampled my mother's prayers and entreaties under my feet. I broke her heart and sent her t her grave. Young men, if you have a godly mother, treat her kindly."