My New Bible
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,
www.pacificpress.com/signs. With permission from Dale
Galusha
dalgal@pacificpress.com