A MISSIONARY went to see a little Indian boy who was dying of consumption. He found him in an old hut with a few leaves for his bed, and a dirty blanket for his covering.
“What can I do for you, my poor boy, to relieve your wants?” he asked.
“Nothing, sir,” said the boy. “I want but little; I am very happy Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory, died for my sins; and I trust only in Him.”
“Do you find comfort in your Bible?”
“That sir, is my dear friend,” said the dying boy, raising himself on his elbow, and pressing the book to his heart. “Last year I went to visit my sister, two hundred miles up the lake. When I was half way back, I remembered I had left my Bible. I turned directly round; and myself and my canoe were nine days tossing on the lake before I reached the house. But I got my friend at last; and I never mean to part with it till I am dead; and then, sir, I want you to give it away, so that it may do good to others.”
Children, which have you, a dusty or well-worn Bible? Once a good man offered a little boy the choice between a present of twenty-five dollars or a handsome Bible. Said the little fellow: “My mother used to tell me the law of the Lord was better than thousands of gold and silver. If you please, sir, I will have the Bible.” May you all make so wise a choice.
ML 08/15/1909