MY DEAR, I am so tired of Sunday,” said little Willie, a playful hoy of ten years old, who was longing for Monday to come, that he might play with his toys.
“Who wants to hear a story?” said his uncle James, who was sitting by reading, “I do,” said Willie, and so said his brother and sisters, and they all gathered round their uncle.
He said, “Our Savior, when He was on earth, used parables, and so now I want to tell you a parable. It is about a kind man and his apple tree.
The apples were hanging on this tree quite ripe and looking very beautiful. A poor man, as he was passing along the road, stopped to look at this tree, and to admire the beautiful apples that hung on it. He counted the ripe golden pippins and found there were just seven of them. While he was looking at them, the owner came out. He was a kindhearted man, and loved to make people happy. ‘My friend,’ he said, ‘I’ll give you some of these apples.’
“Thank you, sir,” said the poor man. Six of the apples were put in his hands. The owner only left one for himself.
“Now don’t you think that poor man ought to have been very grateful for the kindness shown to him? Certainly he should. But he was not. He wanted to have the seven apples all to himself. And at last he made up his mind that he would go back and steal the other apple.”
“And did he do that?” asked Willie, indignantly. “The mean fellow! he ought to have been ashamed of himself. I hope he got well punished for stealing that apple.”
“How many days are there in the week, Willie?” asked his uncle.
“Seven,” said Willie, blushing deeply; for now; he began to see the meaning of the parable and it made him feel very uncomfortable. And well he might feel so, as also some of our readers. For when God has given us six days out of the seven in each week for our own purposes, and only keeps one for Himself, isn’t it mean and wicked in the highest degree for us to rob Him of that one day?
ML-03/14/1920