ONE Sunday I was addressing a Sunday school on the all-important theme of eternity, and the last opportunity for each one, which is fast drawing nigh. What made us all think most seriously that afternoon was a solemn occurrence which had taken place in the district only a few days before, two young women having been drowned, and having entered into the everlasting future unprepared to meet God.
On reaching the friend’s house with whom I was staying, I asked his little girl of twelve years of age, if she was resting her soul on Jesus, and would there and then trust Him with her soul. She burst into tears, and continued for a long-time weeping, so I did not press for an answer.
Visiting the same town a short time afterwards, I was glad to find the little girl resting on Christ, and learned, too, that she was growing in grace. The following are her own words—
“While sitting in the class, one Sunday afternoon, I first realized that Jesus had died for me. But I could not summon up courage to say anything about it to anyone until about a month afterwards, when you were here, and asked me whether I could really say that Jesus had died to save me, and whether I could trust Him. Then for the first time I was able to confess Christ; and now I know I am one of God’s children, and that Christ has borne my sins, and removed them, as far as the east is from the west. He loved me, and gave Himself for me.”
ML 02/17/1924