FRANKIE TRUSTS IN CHRIST.
Although Frankie was a merry, thoughtless little fellow, his mother’s
story about keeping the Sabbath made such a deep impression upon his
mind that the next Sunday morning his first thought on waking was as to
how he should spend the day. There seemed to be a great many hours from
dawn till dark, and he sighed half aloud as he thought of the smooth
crust of snow and the snow-man left unfinished the day before.
Aleck was awake, and, hearing the sigh, asked what was the matter. “Oh,
I was just thinking, Aleck,” was the reply, “how long it will be before
Monday. Don’t it seem ever so long to you? I wish you could go to
church with mamma and me. It’s nice to hear them sing, but I get sleepy
when the minister talks. Didn’t you ever go to church?”
“Yes, but I canna remember about it very well. It was before I was lame.
But I am sure I wad like to gang to the kirk,” said Aleck.
“What made you lame?” Frankie asked, for the first time seeming to
realize that his patient playmate had not always been a cripple.
“I fell down the stairs i’ the paper-mill where my mither was. It hurt
my back some way.”
“Won’t you get well some time?” asked Frankie, earnestly.
“I dinna ken, but I’m thinkin’ ’twill nae be lang till I gang to my
mither.”
“O Aleck,” and Frankie put his arms about his neck, “you mean you’re
going to die, and you mustn’t. You’d have to be put way down in the
ground.”
“Only my body, Frankie. My soul would be wi’ God and my mither. And oh!
it is sic a bonny place, and Sunday a’ the time. Then I wi’ be free frae
pain.”
“Can everybody go there, Aleck? Am I going too, and mamma, and my papa
that’s way off in California?”
“Everybody who loves Jesus. If you love him he wi’ take you right there
when you die. Why dinna you love him, Frankie?”
“I do want to,” was the earnest answer, “but I don’t know how. I don’t
believe I love him, or I wouldn’t be so naughty.”
“The minister at the kirk wi’ tell you a’ about it, an’ your Bible an’
your mither, an’ if you pray, God wi’ help you.”
“I will try, Aleck. I’ll ask mamma about it, and I’ll listen to
everything Mr. Price says, and I’ll pray too.”
Frankie was very much in earnest, and, after he was dressed, he knelt by
the bedside and prayed that God would help him to be good and to love
Jesus. On the way to church he talked with his mother, and she tried to
lead him to the Good Shepherd. Mr. Price’s sermon was written for the
lambs of the flock, and was full of encouragement to the little ones to
“come to Jesus.” Frankie listened with earnest attention to that “sweet
story of old, when Jesus was here among men;” his eyes filled with
tears, and his heart throbbed at the story of the cruel death on the
cross; and when, in conclusion, Mr. Price spoke of the tender love that
the Saviour had for little children, and entreated them to give their
hearts to him and love him in return, he whispered softly, “I will try
to love Jesus.”
Frankie was not the only one of the children whose heart had been
touched, as the next hour spent in the Sabbath School testified. The
teachers sought to deepen the impression, and the Holy Spirit so wrought
upon their young hearts that many went home rejoicing in a Saviour’s
love.
That Sabbath was a happy day in Frankie’s home. Mrs. Western’s heart was
full of a mother’s joy over her child, and Aleck shared in her
happiness; as for Frankie, although he could comprehend but little, he
knew that Jesus loved him, had died for him, and that he wanted the love
and service of just such little children. He was but a child, and would
often err, but the hand in which his was clasped was the same strong
hand which upholds the best and wisest of us all.
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