MANY years ago, and long before my young readers were born, there lived in Hampshire a shepherd boy who, having to feed his sheep every Sunday morning, got into the bad habit of spending the rest of the day in idling about the village with other young men. This not only led to his entirely neglecting to hear the, preached word of God, but to many evil ways besides. But John’s conscience was uneasy, for he had been early taught to know better, and he often went about with his companions in anything but a happy state of mind. Well, one Sunday morning, when going, as usual, to look after the sheep, he happened to spy a squirrel in a tree on the hillside, sitting on a bough with his two fore paws raised together before his little face, as squirrels often sit when eating an acorn or a nut. Now, it happened that John had just been thinking over his evil ways, and as he, gazed upward at the little animal it suddenly struck him that the squirrel was praying. Poor John was a very ignorant youth, and, considering that he had lived all his lifetime in the country, he ought to have known the habits of squirrels better than to have made such a strange mistake. However, so it was, and it had a great effect on John. His very first thought was, “What a bad boy I must be who never pray when even squirrels do!” Away he went to his sheep, but while he tended them the thought still haunted him, “How bad I must be never to pray, when even squirrels do!” Finding his sheep in haste, he hurried home, changed his clothes, and went at once to some place where the gospel was preached. On his way he had to pass a knot of his companions idling, as usual, at a corner of the village, and when they saw that he was dressed in his Sunday clothes they guessed where he was going, and began at once to taunt him with it, and to shout “Amen” in chorus after him. But none of these things moved John. God was at work in his soul, and He who can use the most simple and unlikely means to effect His gracious purposes had so aroused the conscience of the poor ignorant shepherd boy that no amount of ridicule could force him from his purpose. That night the word of God proved “sharper than any two-edged sword” to him, and he went home under the deep conviction that he was a sinner, a poor lost sinner, whom neither praying nor working could save. On the following Lord’s day he went again, and every Sunday continued to attend, until his eyes were opened to see that “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,” and that “he that believeth on Him hath everlasting life.” Thus, washed from his sins in the precious blood of Christ, which cleanseth from all sin,” he was made happy in the Lord, and from that time led an entirely different life. Anxious now for the salvation of others, he became a Sunday-school teacher, and, as shepherding interfered with his much-loved work on the Lord’s-day, he changed his occupation and became a well-sinker. His work was harder, but he was happy in it for the Lord’s sake, sand greatly beloved by his little class of Sunday-school children; so much so that, when at one time he was laid aside by an accident, they all subscribed their pennies, and brought the money to help him in his need. He did not live many years, but he lived long enough to show what grace can do by most unlikely means, and long after he fell asleep in Christ, those whom he had taught in his class had cause to remember with thankfulness the lesson he had learned from the squirrel in a tree.
ML 11/27/1904