Dear Little Bobby

 •  3 min. read  •  grade level: 6
 
Robert David McLean Wood. Born August 24, 1912. Died April 15, 1919.
WHEN little Robert came into the world, we were very proud of him, as he was our first baby: and was an exceptionally bright and bonnie babe. He weighed only six pounds, but he soon became much heavier as he just seemed to sleep and grow. I never remember his being cross when an infant, but was so good, and never made strange with anyone—always had a smile.
Like most babies, he was very fond of animals, and when about fifteen months old, he began to distinguish between the animals, and used to mimic the different sounds each made. He did not talk very much before he was two years old, but after he began he seemed to say everything as plainly as a grown up person, and he had an unusually good memory.
When he was two years and four months old, he received a box of blocks with all the letters on them. I think he knew every letter before the winter was over; learning them by playing with them, and asking the names of the letters. He was very fond of being with his father, or doing any work that men did, especially being about machinery. The last two years of his life he used an ax quite cleverly, and during the last winter of his short life, he was able to cut down a number of poplar trees, around our home in the Swan River Valley. His father told him that he might cut down dead trees, but not green ones. I used to wonder how he could tell them apart. So I said to him one day: “Are you sure you are not cutting down green trees, Bobby?” He answered: “I am sure.” So I asked him how he knew the difference between the dead trees and the living? His answer was: “When you shake a green tree it wobbles, but a dead one rattles.” I told him that was something mamma never knew before.
When dear Bobbie heard stories read from the Bible, he paid great attention; and repeated what he heard in his own Words. Nearly every morning his father asked who could tell him what had been read the previous morning. And our boy was ready to tell. The first Scripture he learned was John 3:1616For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. (John 3:16), and he never forgot it.
While playing with his little brothers, he would stop and ask them if they loved the Lord Jesus; and if they believed in Him: And he would repeat his precious text. He would question his parents as to whether their different relatives and friends were Christians. I never remember Bobby coming late to a meal without first asking a blessing when he took his seat. We intended sending him to school towards the end of April, and he would often talk about it. One day he said, “Maybe never go to school; perhaps the Lord will come before that time.” Another time I heard him tell his brother Gordon the same thing: and it was not long after that his Savior took him to Himself.
He was just sick a week, and we did not know that he was seriously ill, until the afternoon before he died. The door told us that there was no hope. So I asked Bobbie if he was going to leave father and mother? He said, “I think so, mamma.” I asked, too, if he would be glad to go to be with Jesus. And he said, “Yes, mamma, I’ll be glad.” He suffered terribly the last six hours. The last two hours, he could not speak; but I think he knew us, for when I would repeat his name, he would turn his eyes to me. Or if his father spoke to him, he would look towards him. Just before he “passed away” his eyes lit up with a look of amazement; and then a smile came over his face. He breathed once or then was gone to be “Forever with the Lord.”
ML-02/29/1920