Lucy was lost. She was only three and one-half years old and had wandered away from her home that Saturday afternoon—where, no one knew. She had been seen by someone running in the direction of a tavern where her father was in the habit of going on his way home from work. There was a deep pond close by, and they were afraid she might have fallen into it. But no one could tell, and her mother was in great alarm.
When hope had almost gone, there was a low knock at the cottage door, and Lucy’s mother was almost afraid to answer. But when she did, there stood the village policeman holding Lucy in his arms, all safe and sound. The dear little child had gone to keep her father from entering the tavern and she had posted herself at the door to watch. He was longer coming than usual, and Lucy could not go away without him. As one after another entered sober and came out drunk, she seemed frightened, but kept her post until the kind-hearted policeman came along. He had heard of her mother’s anxiety, and lifting little Lucy up, he carried her home.
Years have passed since that event in Lucy’s little life, but she has not forgotten it. Neither has her father, for it was the last time he ever entered the tavern door. He was soundly converted to God, who not only saved his soul but took away all desire for drink that was ruining his life. He became a happy follower of Christ.
Lucy, who has grown up to be a beautiful young girl, is also saved and on her way to heaven. So was the old policeman who found her that day. They are all in the old village, new creatures in Christ, saved and on their way to glory. Are you, dear young reader?
ML-01/09/1977