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T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
June, 1936
^ Mary’s DREAM B y BERTHA B. MOORE Bostic, North Carolina
“ Enter, good and faithful servant,” invited a matchless voice. As Mary Breen entered the gate, the children burst forth with a new song, a song that seemed to be especially for her. She stood still and listened and watched. Then she turned to thé One by the gate. “ O most glorious One, tell me where I am and who are these precious children,” pleaded the bewildered Junior teacher. “ Thou art in heaven, dear heart, and these are the little children who have been redeemed through the blood o f the Lamb that was shed for the remission o f children’s sins as well as o f the sin o f those who neglected salvation till they were older. Some of these have been in your Sunday-school classes. Some are children for whom your pupils prayed on each Lord’s Day, and for whom they gave their missionary offerings that missionaries ori far-away fields might carry to children of all lands the good news that the Lord Jesus loved them, too.” Mary Breen stood speechless for a breath. “ But, Sir, are not these children too young to know the full meaning of salvation ? Did they really repent, and were they really saved? Is their salvation not provided in God’s plan for very young children— for those who cannot understand ?” Before the Bright One at the gate could reply, the scene changed. Mary Breen stood outside a second gate, a mon strous, huge, strong gate from which issued the most agonizing sounds that she had ever dreamed could be uttered by human voice. She shrank from the gate. She tried to turn and escape, but there was no escape ! Slowly the gate opened. As the distance grew, so grew the agony o f the sounds from the depths within. Impelled by some unseen force, Mary Breen entered. Slowly the gate closed behind her as more heart-rending grew the bitter wails within. She tried to cover her eyes so as not to see from whence came the cries, but a deep, terrifying, piercing voice commanded that she look. Before her were children, little children ! It seemed to Mary Breen, Junior teacher, that she never could endure the sight for one instant. Turning toward the voice, she beheld a person who was smiling in a most malicious way. “ Aha ! So you thought they were too young, did you ? That was exactly what we wanted you to think. Just keep on thinking it. Just keep on neglecting the salvation o f the souls in your church. Just— ” With a muffled scream, Mary Breen awoke. Tears were streaming down her face, wetting her pillow. For a moment she lay exhausted, miserable, suffering. Then like a won drous ray o f bright light, the remembrance of her first dream came to her. She arose quickly and buried her face in her hands beside her bed. Then she prayed, prayed as never had Mary Breen, Junior teacher, prayed in all the twenty-two years of her life. [Continued on page 247]
I do w ish that evangelist would quit preaching to the little children,” sighed Mary Breen, teacher of the Junior girls in the church where the meetings were being held. “ My girls are entirely too young to understand, and there simply is no earthly use in getting them all stirred up.” This she was saying to herself as she made her way to the evening service. Her wish was not fulfilled, however, for Dr. Wright did his wonderful best that night. To many it seemed as if the presence o f the Lord Jesus had never been more manifest. And three o f Miss Breen’s youngest Junior girls accepted the Lord Jesus for their own personal Saviour. Their teacher should have rejoiced greatly, but she actually felt very miserable. “ Suppose they don’t hold out,” she reasoned with her self on the way home. “ Suppose as they grow older, they drift from the Lord and don’t even attend church! Suppose they say some day that they really were not saved, that they were so young they did not know what they were' doing! Oh, I think it is terrible! Edith is only nine. Julia and Joyce are ten, but what do they know about conviction and sin and all the deep mysteries o f salvation ? I don’t see why that preacher doesn’t stick to the old sinners.” Naturally, Mary Breen’s heart was still troubled when she retired. It was some time before she finally drifted into sleep. Then she dreamed. She stood outside a most marvelously beautiful gate from which issued such music as she had never dreamed o f hearing. There was a richness, a joyousness, a purity that she had never heard before. Suddenly the gate opened very slowly, and the music grew more and more glorious. As the gate opened farther and farther, she saw that the music came from a host o f children, little children, who were singing and playing musical instruments such as she had never beheld.
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