“Freddy! I don’t want to see you climb on that milk truck again!” Mother warned. “It’s a very dangerous thing to do. I’ve told you many times, and I don’t want you to forget again!”
Freddy watched the milk truck make its way down the street and idly kicked at a stone. Why was Mom always so fussy about his catching a ride on the milk truck? Some of the bigger boys did, and it looked like fun!
Freddy was a short little boy for eight years. His eyes were very round and blue, and he had blond hair that curled tightly all over his head.
One day the milkman stood talking with his mother at the back of the house and Freddy suddenly thought, “Now’s the time to get on the truck! Neither Mother or the milkman will see me climbing on!”
Freddy climbed onto the truck on the opposite side from which the milkman would come so that he would not be seen, and just in time! The milkman was in a hurry and came half running with his milk bottles jingling in their basket. Swinging into the truck he was off with a jerk.
What was that he heard? It sounded like a boy’s scream and a thud! Slamming on his brakes he jumped to the ground. There in a little heap lay an unconscious Freddy!
When Freddy wakened some hours later in his bed, his head was aching dreadfully and the doctor said he had had a concussion and must stay in bed for a week. It seemed like a long time to Freddy—a long time to lie in bed and think about how this had happened because he had been disobedient!
There were other things to think about, too. Where would he have gone if he had gotten killed when he fell off the truck? Freddy knew he would not have gone to heaven, for he had never received the Lord Jesus as his own Savior. He had never been willing to obey God, for he wanted most of all to do as he pleased, and to have his own way.
A year later Freddy went to some splendid gospel meetings for boys and girls. Every night he sat right up in the very front row so he would not miss a single word. The preacher had a big chart showing two roads. One was narrow, and led to heaven. The other was wide, and led to hell. Only a few traveled the narrow road, but many were upon the wide, easy road that led downward. Freddy knew that he was one of those on that road.
The cross was the gateway to the narrow road. Freddy learned that the Lord Jesus had died on the cross for his sins, and that he could get on that narrow road by being born again. The preacher explained that meant he must believe that Jesus had died for him, and it would be the same as if he himself had died, for Jesus had taken his place. When he believed and received the Lord Jesus, he would be born again and begin to live a new life.
It was now or never Freddy thought. He had worried for so long about his sins and his need of the Lord Jesus that he felt he could wait no longer. That lake of fire at the end of the broad road looked dreadful.
In faith Freddy turned to the cross that was the gateway to the narrow road. Trusting the One who had died upon that cross, Freddy found his feet upon the right path with heaven and joy ahead!