Chimney sweeps are coming back again! It is estimated there are 1000 in the United States and Canada, and their ranks are growing.
Most of us haven’t seen or heard of a chimney sweep in our lifetime, but with the energy crisis and the rising cost of oil, natural gas and electricity, there is a swing back to wood and coal as fuels. This brings dirty chimneys and a return of the chimney sweep.
No doubt there will be stories told of modern chimney sweeps, but this one of little Charles goes back a few years.
A wealthy Christian lady, whose husband had died, lived alone with her little son Charles, just five years old, in a beautiful suburban home. Her one great desire now was that her little son should early be converted to God, and she earnestly prayed that He would draw his heart after the Saviour.
She sought to teach Charles some prayers, but only one would he learn, and that was: “Lord, convert me; change my heart; teach me to trust Thee, and teach me to love my brethren as Jesus loved us.” Charles would quickly recite his prayer, then quickly say, “Amen,” and climb into bed.
One day a servant announced that Charles had disappeared. The anxious mother ran all around the neighborhood, searching and asking people if anyone had seen her little boy. She published the news of his disappearance in the papers, and offered a large reward for any information concerning him, but all to no avail.
Time went by and one told her he had seen a small child drown by the river, that he had been drowned and buried in a small cemetery downstream. Believing this to be her little son, the poor mother went there to weep. She had a tombstone erected to his memory, upon which was engraved her little son’s prayer.
Three sorrowful years passed by for the lonely Christian mother. It was summertime, and the servants were busy cleaning the mansion. Coming in unexpectedly, she was surprised to find a little chimney sweep, black as coal, leaning against the fireplace. He looked so sad, and big tears rolled down his thin little cheeks leaving white traces upon his dark face.
“What is the matter, my child?” she asked kindly.
“It’s because—” he replied, trying to keep back the tears, “it’s because—my boss will beat me.”
“Tell me about it—why does he beat you?”
" ‘Cause I don’t earn enough money. I call out loud as I can to people to let me clean their chimneys, and nobody wants me. He says I don’t climb fast enough, and I don’t scrape hard enough. Yesterday I fell and hurt my leg, and tore my pants. We come to clean your chimney, and my boss is on the roof now. He is coming down,” and the little fellow sobbed bitterly.
“Well, I will speak to your boss.” “Oh please don’t,” he pleaded, “he will beat me all the more.”
“I will talk to God about you tonight.”
“To God? Oh I keep asking Him to take me back to my mother.”
“You have a mother then?”
“I had one once. Oh if I could only go back to her!”
“Do you know where she lives?” questioned the lady, her interest mounting.
“No; I was only little when I knew her. I remember only one house—and it had a garden. The fireplace was over here like yours, and Mother had a kind sad face like — oh, I’m sorry,” he broke off, for the words overcame the poor lady. She sank upon the sofa, then taking the boy’s hand she drew him near to her and said, “And what of your mother?”
He tried to recall some things about her, and then suddenly remembered—“She taught me a prayer” he said.
“Tell me that prayer. Tell me!”
Kneeling down, with trembling voice the little fellow prayed: “Lord, convert me—change my heart; teach me to trust Thee, and to love my brethren as Jesus loves us. Amen.”
“My boy! my boy!” cried the mother as she pressed him to her bosom regardless of his soot; “You are my son, Charles! I’m your mother!” and the sobs of both stopped their voices. They both wept, but they were tears of joy. Scarcely could the mother contain herself as she exclaimed, “O thank God! my boy! my boy!”
Here his bog, entered the room and was surprised to find the lady and the little sooty fellow down on their knees together. She asked him how he ever came to possess the child. He told her a man, who claimed he was the boy’s father, had placed him in his hands for a sum of money. This man was now dying in a hospital.
The lady hastened to the hospital. There she found a dying man who confessed that three years previous he had stolen a child, whom he found climbing over a wall.
From here on Charles was his mother’s chief joy, and oh how thankful she was to God for bringing back her long lost son, whom she had reckoned dead. To commemorate this wonderful event, every May 1St, she would gather as many as 50 small chimney sweeps around her table and provide them with a sumptuous feast. She would then relate the story of her little Charles and tell them that God hears and answers prayer.
She also taught them even as her little son was lost, so little boys and girls are lost in sin. And just as she loved her boy and yearned for him all the time he was away from her, so God loves every boy and girl, and older ones too, no matter how naughty or wicked one might be. Finally she told them that even as she welcomed back her little boy and kissed him, poor, ignorant and black as he was, so God is ready to forgive and to embrace every sinner, small and great, who comes to Him in repentance through the Lord Jesus Christ.
ML-10/29/1978