Some years ago there lived in one of the poorer sections of London a man who
professed to be an infidel. Several of his Christian friends labored to bring
him to have faith in the Bible and Christ, but all their efforts proved
fruitless. As the years passed, he grew hardened and cynical.
In time the weight of years lay heavily upon him, and one day he went to his bed
for the last time. One of his Christian neighbors, who had faithfully endeavored
to lead him to Christ, took his Bible and climbed the dark, dirty stairs to the
garret where the sick man lay. He knocked on the warped door, and a weak voice
invited him in.
As soon as he entered, the dying man looked up and rasped, "So it's you with
that Book again! Take your old Bible from here. I want nothing to do with it!"
Sorrowfully the would-be friend returned home, where he related his experience
to his wife.
All unnoticed by him, his small daughter had been listening. When he was
finished, she went to her room and took from a drawer her most precious
possession, the new Bible her daddy had given her at Christmas. With it tucked
under her arm, she walked down the street to the infidel's home and up the same
stairs her father had descended a short while before. Knocking on the door, she
heard the old man's voice inviting her in.
"And what do you want, little girl?"
"Daddy said you didn't want his OLD Bible, so maybe you will take my NEW one."
Bursting into tears she laid it quickly on the table beside the bed and ran from
the dingy room.
Soon afterward the old man died. When the social workers went to remove his
body, they found under his pillow the little girl's Bible and a piece of soiled
paper, stained with the marks of many tears, on which these words were written:
I've tried in vain a thousand ways My fears to quell, my hopes to raise; But
what I need, the Bible says, Is ever, only Jesus. My soul is night, my heart is
steel, I cannot see, I cannot feel; For light, for life, I must appeal In simple
faith to Jesus. He died, He lives, He reigns, He pleads; There's love in all His
words and deeds; There's all a guilty sinner needs For evermore in Jesus. Though
some should sneer, and some should blame, I'll go with all my guilt and shame;
I'll go to Him because His name, Above all names, is Jesus
By Thomas A. Davis. Source: Signs of the Times, Copyright (c) February 1957,
Pacific Press. With permission from Dale Galusha
dalgal@pacificpress.com
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