A GENTLEMAN, when visiting in a hospital in London, sat beside the cot of a little girl; wishing to win her confidence, he said, “My child, do you love your mother?” With a very serious look she replied, “Yes, I do indeed.”
“But, why do you answer so gravely; what is that you are thinking about, my dear?”
Then the little girl replied with great earnestness—
“Because I can never love my mother, anything as she loves me.”
The dear child loved her mother because her mother first loved her, and that fond mother’s love was as a circle in which the child’s love dwelt. Dear young readers, we can never love Jesus as He loves us. His is perfect and everlasting love. He died to save us, He lives to bless us. Can you say of Him what the little maid said of her mother? Yes! I love Him, indeed, but I can never love Him in anyway as He loves me.