It was four o’clock on a bright I Sunday afternoon. A group of children were all eager to be let out of Sunday school, when one of the teachers said, “We should be glad if any boy or girl would stay with us for a short prayer meeting this afternoon.”
Among the few that remained was a bright-faced little girl of twelve. Very quietly she knelt in a corner and buried her face in her little brown hands while prayers were being offered up. Then she tried to slip away unnoticed, but her teacher laid her hand on her and said kindly, “Dorothy, why won’t you trust Jesus?” With a laugh Dorothy shook off the hand and darted into the street.
However, when alone, Dorothy’s little face grew grave and she said wearily to herself, “That’s what they all say, ‘Why don’t you trust Jesus?’ and they can’t see how all the time I am longing to know Him, but I can’t understand it. I don’t know the way to be saved. I wish I did — oh, I wish I did.”
Late that night Dorothy went up to her room. All the evening she had tried to be her usual cheerful self, but there was such an aching in her heart, poor child — she was seeking the Good Shepherd, and she knew not where to look for Him.
Kneeling down by the window, she laid her head upon the sill and let the tears flow. “Oh,” she thought, “I would go straight to Him, and tell Him all about it. I would tell Him I cannot understand how to be saved, and He would help me to find out the way.”
Suddenly a bright thought came— “Wasn’t Jesus all the time with her in her little room? Even though she could not see Him, might she not speak with Him just the same? Why had she not thought of it before?” And there in the deepening twilight, Dorothy told Jesus all — how unhappy she was, and how she longed to be saved.
Long she knelt there — she had so much to tell the Lord Jesus— and when at last she got up from her knees the little face was radiant with happiness. The burden of her sins was gone; Jesus had taken all the troubles away. She had found the way to Him at last. In the place of that heartache and that heavy load was a deep down peace and joy known to those who have found the Saviour, whose loving voice still speaks from heaven.
There’s a home for little children
Above the bright blue sky,
Where Jesus reigns in glory,
A home of peace and joy.
No home on earth is like it,
Or can with it compare;
For every one is happy,
Nor could be happier there.
ML 10/13/1968