Many times in
the past I had invited
him to come. Several
other Christian friends
had talked to him about
the Lord and had tried
to share the good news
with him.
He was a well-respected,
honest man with so many
characteristics a
Christian should have,
but he had never put on
Christ, nor entered the
doors of the church.
"Have you ever been to a
church service in your
life?" I had asked
him a few years ago. We
had just finished a
pleasant day of visiting
and talking.
He hesitated. Then with
a bitter smile he told
me of his childhood
experience some fifty
years ago. He was one of
many children in a large
impoverished family.
His parents had
struggled to provide
food, with little left
for housing and
clothing. When he was
about ten, some
neighbors invited him to
worship with them.
The Sunday School class
had been very exciting!
He had never heard such
songs and stories
before!
He had never heard
anyone read from the
Bible! After class was
over, the teacher took
him aside and said,
"Son, please don't come
again dressed as you are
now. We want to look our
best when we come into
God's house."
He stood in his ragged,
unpatched overalls. Then
looking at his dirty
bare feet, he answered
softly, "No, ma'am, I
won't ever."
"And I never did," he
said, abruptly ending
our conversation.
There must have been
other factors to have
hardened him so, but
this experience formed a
significant part of the
bitterness in his heart.
I'm sure that Sunday
School teacher meant
well. But did she really
understand the love of
Christ? Had she studied
and accepted the
teachings found in the
second chapter of James?
What if she had put her
arms around the dirty,
ragged little boy and
said, "Son, I am so glad
you are here, and I hope
you will come every
chance you get to hear
more about Jesus."
I reflected on the
awesome responsibility a
teacher or pastor or a
parent has to welcome
little ones in His name.
How far reaching her
influence was!
I prayed that I might be
ever open to the
tenderness of a child's
heart, and that I might
never fail to see beyond
the appearance and
behavior of a child to
the eternal
possibilities within.
Yes, I saw him in the
church house for the
first time on Wednesday.
As I looked at that
immaculately dressed old
gentleman lying in his
casket, I thought of the
little boy of long ago.
I could almost hear him
say, "No, ma'am, I won't
ever."
And I wept.
Author Unknown
