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by N obud E. Much
WASHED/
me, and drink.’ I came to Jesus, and He has given me a well of water in side of me that is ever bubbling.” George spoke up, “ If I came to Jesus, would He wash me inside so I would not be cross any more?” “Yes, dear,” said Mother, and so it was that George, who did not want to be washed, was washed that day not only on the outside, but on the inside, too. Gypsy Smith, the evangelist, told this lovely story at one of his meet ings. He had been speaking at a certain place on the new birth (John 3). At the close of the meeting the altar-call was given. Among those who came forward to believe on the Lord Jesus as Saviour was a young lad of ten. Gypsy Smith watched this boy as he went into the inquiry room. He re membered that when he came to the Lord no one seemed to have any in terest in him, thinking he was only a poor gypsy boy. So he determined that the boy should know that there was someone who cared. Gypsy Smith went into the inquiry room and knelt by the lad. "Why are you here, sonny?" the evangelist asked him. And through his tears the boy said, "I heard you speaking of the new birth — I don't know much about it, but I do want to be born again." Then Gypsy Smith pointed him to the Lord Jesus who died on the cross in his place and stead. After awhile the lad said, "I think I see it— first you bring yourself to Jesus, then you leave your self with Jesus and keep going on." "Yes, that's it," said Gypsy Smith, and the lad went away rejoicing in his new-found Saviour. But the next night the evangelist found the boy in the inquiry room again, his eyes shining like stars. "Why, sonny," the Gypsy said, "I thought you received Jesus as your Saviour last night?" "I did," the lad replied. "Then why are you here to night?" "Oh, I came to bring my mother." The next night he was in the in quiry room again. "Sonny, why are you here again tonight?" "Oh, I came tonight to bring my grandfather." Three generations were won for the Lord because a little boy, who found the Lord Jesus as his Saviour, be came a personal worker in his own home. EVEN A LITTLE CHILD IS KNOWN BY HIS DOINGS
“ T T d o n ’ t w a n n a be washed,” said JL little George as his mother pre pared to bathe him. After a while, George became quiet and his mother washed him, but when he came down to breakfast, he sat in his chair and sulked. Did you ever see a boy or girl do that? Henry and Jane, George’s brother and sister, were eating their breakfast when Mother said, “ I am going to tell you a story— George did not want the cold water to come near him this morning. In stead of thanking God for the nice water He has given us, he was acting as if he wished there wasn’t any wa ter in the house. “When I was a little girl, my fa ther started out for the West. We had a large wagon with room enough for my father and mother and my brother and sister and myself, and it seamed as though we had something of every thing in that wagon. At the end of the wagon, we had a barrel which was filled with water; and every time we came to a river on our journey, Fa ther was very careful to fill that bar rel with water. “ That year, there was very little rain, and the country was very dry. As we got farther and farther West, we came to many dry water courses, and there was no water to be had. One day we used up the last drop of water in the barrel, and oh, how thirsty we were! “My father had somehow missed the proper trail, and I well remem ber how we all prayed that God would let us soon come to a place where there was some water. Shortly after we prayed, we found the trail again and soon came to a farm where they had a deep well. How we en joyed drinking that water! And we were so hot and dusty that we were glad to have a wash, too. It seemed as if our very skins were thirsty, and how the poor horses enjoyed a good, long drink!” George was quietly listening and seemed to have forgotten all about his sulkiness. “ Children,” Mother continued, “ I have often thought that that journey was like our way through life. A time came in my life when I was thirsty for another kind of water. It was then that I heard the voice of Jesus say, ‘If any mgn thirst, let him come unto
I n e v e r y k i t c h e n you can find a sieve. Of course, many of you have often helped Mother sift the flour when making cookies or cake. And don’t you like to sift it down to the very last bit, until only the lumps are left in the sieve? How fluffy the flour looks that has been sifted, and how usable! Mary’s mother has three sieves. “ Three!” you exclaim. “What does she do with three sieves?” Mary’s mother does not use all three to sift the impurities from the flour. She has another use for her three sieves. Mary, I’m sorry to say, often comes home from play with stories about her playmates that are not always kind. Her mother does not want her little girl to become a talebearer, so she uses the three sieves. On one, there is a tag which says, “ Is it true?” on the third are these words, “ Is it nec essary?” So when Mary begins a story which her mother fears may hurt some one if repeated, she hurries away for the three sieves, and Mary’s story is sifted — sifted just as you sift flour when helping Mother. It passes through the first sieve to see if it is “ true,” and through the second to see if it is “ kind,” and through the third to see if it is “ necessary” to repeat it. Some times Mary’s mother need only use the first sieve, for if the story is not true, it will surely not be “ kind” and “necessary” to pass on. However, if the story passes the three sieves, Mary may safely tell it to some one else. I think Mary’s mother is very wise, don’t you, to have three sieves in her home? In God’s Word, we find this prayer which I am sure would be a good one for us all to pray: “ Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeem er” (Psa. 19:14). When we really pray that prayer from our hearts, we will be able to say with the Psalm ist, “ I will take heed to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue; I will keep my mouth with a bridle” (Psa. 39:1).
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A PRIL, 1964
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