LOST IN JERUSALEM.
FOUR days after this, Sandy was still seeking his lost Gip, but with a
forlorn and despairing heart. Never until now had London seemed so big
to him; never before had he felt how crowded it was with people, all
strangers to him; many of them, as it appeared, enemies to him. He did
not know a single friend among them. There were a few fusee boys who
were good to him when they were in luck, but they did not altogether
approve of Sandy's plan, that he should do nothing but search for Gip,
whilst they worked to feed him. There had been some hard words already
spoken to him about it; and Sandy could see close at hand that even
these old comrades would forsake him.
It was Sunday afternoon; but that did not make much difference to him,
except that the streets were clearer again, and there was a better
chance of seeing Gip. It was quieter, too, with less rattle of wheels,
and she could hear him if he shouted to her. The day was fine, and the
low autumn sun was shining behind the smoke and the mist. Sandy had
lost his eager step and searching look; and though to find Gip was
still all he lived for, he was sauntering along with languid feet and
an aching heart.
Sunday had had its pleasures, even for him, in former days. He had
carried Gip often on to London Bridge, where the fresh air from the
river had blown about them, and made her laugh many a time. He was on
his way thither now; but by-and-by he saw a cluster of people gathered
in an open space, and he quickened his footsteps, for always in a
little crowd like this there would be some small figure about the size
of Gip, which made him fancy for a moment that he had found her.
There was a chair in the centre of the knot set against a wall, and a
young man stood upon it, speaking in a clear and very earnest voice.
His face was pleasant, and his bright eyes seemed to single out every
face among those around him.
[Illustration: "The child was lost!" he said, just as Sandy came within
hearing, and the words drew him at once into the circle of listeners.]
"The child was lost!" he said, just as Sandy came within hearing, and
the words drew him at once into the circle of listeners. "The child was
lost; only think of that! He was with them when they left the city in
the morning; He had walked along the streets with them, talking to His
mother and father. Then they lost sight of Him; but they thought, 'He
is gone with some of our neighbours' children;' and they went on their
way without feeling any trouble.
"But when the night came, and they were going to have supper at the
inn, Mary would say to her husband, 'Have you seen Jesus?' She would
say it quite calmly, never thinking that He was lost. 'Have you seen
Jesus?'
"And most likely he would answer, 'No, but He is sure to be with the
other children; I will go and call Him.'
"But He was not with the other children. Then they became frightened,
and they went from one to another among their friends and relations,
asking, 'Do you know where our son Jesus is? We have lost Him!'
"Everybody answered them, 'No: He was with us this morning when we left
the city; but it is a long time since we saw Him.'
"It was night then, and they could not return to the city before the
morning came. Do you think Mary slept that night? Do you suppose she
could lie down peacefully, and close her eyes, and forget her great and
sudden trouble? Oh, no! She would be wondering where her lost child
was, where he was sleeping, and if he were hungry and homeless in the
great city they had left, or perhaps wandering about in the fields
and woods outside, with no place to lay His head. She watched for the
morning, and at the very first glimmer of light she was on her feet,
ready to run all the way back to the city.
"And all the way back they would ask every one they met, 'Have you seen
our son Jesus of Nazareth?'
"Those who did not know them would say, 'Tell us what your son is like.'
"Then Mary did her best to describe Him as exactly as she could; for
she knew every look upon His face, and every tone of His voice. But
very likely the clearest thing she could say, the thing most people
would know Him best by, would be, 'He wears a little coat which I made
myself, and it is all in one piece, without seam, woven from the top
throughout.'
"Most folks see clothes plainer than faces. But she did not get any
news of Jesus before they reached the city.
"They wandered up and down the streets, seeking everywhere for the
child Jesus. They sought Him sorrowing, sorrowing. Think what it would
be to lose your child, perhaps the only one you had, in this great city
of London; never to know where it had wandered, or whose hands it had
fallen into; by night not to know whether it was sleeping under any
shelter, and by day not to know whether any one was giving it bread to
eat."
"Why, that's like me and Gip!" cried Sandy, pushing through the circle
to get closer to the speaker, and listening with all his might, lest he
should miss a single word.
"At last," he continued, "Mary said suddenly, 'How foolish we are! When
we were here with our boy, we went scarcely anywhere but to the Temple,
and that was where Jesus always liked best to go. Let us look for Him
there.'
"So they went up to the Temple, where Jesus loved most to go; and there
they found Him! Try to think how all this sorrow was turned in a moment
into great joy; and how, as they were going home to Nazareth with their
child, their hearts would dance for very gladness, whenever their eyes
fell upon Him.
"And now Jesus, who was a lost child then, is seeking us, who are all
like lost children, wandering away from the house and home of God, our
Father. You know you are a long way off from God; you have lost your
way, and do not know how to get home to Him again. We are like foolish
little children, who follow some show along the streets till they lose
sight of the way back, and can only wander on and on, farther and
farther away, till in time, if they are not found, they will forget all
about their old home, or that they ever had one.
"Have you forgotten your home with God? Or do some of you wish and long
to get back to Him? Well, God has sent Jesus to seek for you, and to
show you the way back. He is seeking for you now, as Mary sought for
Him sorrowing; and if He find you, all His sorrow will be turned into
great joy. He will be satisfied for all the sore pain you have given
Him.
"You cannot see Him, you cannot hear His voice; but He is here amongst
us, close beside us. I am speaking for Him, because you can hear my
voice, and see my face. And I say to every one of you, Jesus Christ is
seeking you, is calling to you. Are you willing to be found? That is
the question. He cannot force you to go home. Do you wish to have a
home with God?
"Lost, are you? Yes, you are lost. Some of you in drunkenness, perhaps;
some of you in thieving: all of you are lost in sin and misery. But I
have this message for every one of you:
"'Jesus is come to seek and to save those who are lost.'
"You have only to speak to Him, to call to Him, as a lost child calls
to its mother, and He will save you."
Sandy did not miss a word; though he could not understand them all,
simple as they were. There was a hymn sung, and a short prayer uttered,
and then the small congregation melted away, and Sandy strolled on
to London Bridge. He turned aside then, into one of the abutments,
and stood leaning over the parapet, as if he were watching the river
beating and whirling against the great pillars below him. The water was
flecked with light from the setting sun, but he saw neither the river
nor the sky. His mind was full to bewilderment of new ideas. His brain
was pondering over this story of a Child who had been once lost like
Gip, but who was now seeking those who were lost. A person whom nobody
could see, but who went up and down the streets always to take people
home to God. Could not this Jesus help him to find little Gip?
"You was lost once yourself," he said, speaking half aloud without
knowing it; "and you was found again all right. When you're goin' about
lookin' for folks now, maybe you'll come across little Gip, and please
to take care of her for me."
"Who are you speaking to?" asked a voice as quiet as his own, close
beside him.
Sandy turned round quickly, and almost angrily, ashamed of having been
overheard.
Behind him stood a boy of his own height, supported upon crutches, with
a face as wan and pinched as little Gip's. But there was a pleasant
smile in his eyes as he gazed straight into Sandy's face. His clothes
were shabby, but warm, and he had a red woollen comforter round his
neck, and worsted gloves on his hands. He seemed almost a gentleman to
the ragged and barefoot boy, who was about to steal away, half shy and
half angry, when the stranger stretched out his hand to stop him, and,
in doing so, dropped one of his crutches. He would have fallen on the
hard stone pavement, if Sandy had not caught him in his arms.
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