"My poor boy, you are very ill; I fear you must suffer a great deal."
"Yes, I have a bad cold, the cough takes away my breath and it hurts me greatly."
"Have you had this cough long?"
"Oh, yes, a long time, near a year now."
So commenced a conversation between a visiting pastor and a lad who lay dying. The scene was cast in a miserable hovel in a wild district in Ireland. The dialog continued: "And how did you catch this cold? A Kerry boy, I should have thought, would have been reared hardily and accustomed to this sharp air."
"So I was until that terrible night when one of the sheep went astray. My father keeps a few sheep; this is the way we live. When he counted them that night, there was one missing, and he sent me back to look for it."
"No doubt you felt the change from the warmth of the peat fire in this close little hut to the cold mountain blast."
"Oh! that I did; there was snow upon the ground, and the wind pierced me through. But I did not mind it much— I was so anxious to find Father's sheep."
"And did you find it?"
"Oh, yes; I had a long, weary way to go. But I never stopped until I found it."
"And how did you get it home? You had trouble enough with that too, I dare say. Was it willing to follow you back?"
"Well, I did not like to trust it, and besides, it was dead beat and tired, so I laid it on my shoulders and carried it home that way."
"And were they not all at home rejoiced to see you, when you returned with the sheep?"
"Sure enough! Father and Mother and the people round that heard of our loss, all came in the next morning to ask about that sheep. Sorry they were too to hear that I was kept out the whole dark night; it was morning before I got home. And the end of it was, I caught this cold. Mother says I will never be better now. God knows best. Anyway, I did my best to save the sheep."
"Wonderful!" thought the pastor. "Here is the whole gospel history. The sheep is lost. The father sends his son to seek for it. The son goes willingly, suffers all without complaining. And in the end sacrifices his life to find the sheep. And when he finds it, he carries it home on his shoulders, and rejoices with his friends and neighbors over the sheep which was lost, but is found again."
"The pastor then explained to the poor dying boy God's way of salvation, making use of his own simple and affecting story. He read to him the verses in the fifteenth chapter of Luke's gospel, where the shepherd's care for the lost sheep is so beautifully expressed. The lad at once perceived the likeness, and followed the story with deep interest, while the full meaning of the Parable was explained.
The Lord mercifully opened both his understanding and his heart. He saw that he himself was the lost sheep— that Jesus Christ was the Good Shepherd sent by the Father to look for him.
And as the poor boy had borne without murmuring the frost, the snowstorm and the piercing wind, so has the blessed Savior endured the fierce contradiction of sinners against Himself without a murmur. And at the last laid down His precious life, that we might be rescued from destruction and brought safe to our everlasting home.
Neither will He trust His beloved ones, when rescued, to tread the perilous path alone, but bears them home on His shoulders rejoicing.
The poor sick boy seemed to drink it all in. He received it all. He understood it all. He accepted Christ as His Savior and earnestly prayed to be carried home, like the lost sheep.
A few days later he died, humbly, peacefully, almost exulting, with the name of "Jesus my Savior and my Shepherd" the last words upon his lips.