"But I don't think you have one friend who died to save you. And Jesus loved you so much that He did this for you. If He was on earth, He would draw you gently to Himself, and put His arm round you. He would tell you He had died so as to let you go to Heaven, for He had been punished instead of you. He would tell you He wanted to live in your little heart, and make you happy and take care of you; and if you only saw His kind, loving face, if you only heard His voice, you would look up and say: 'I will follow You all my life. I will try to please You every day.'"
"Would I, do you think?" said Chuckles thoughtfully. "If I could really see Him, p'raps I would. Only Aunt Dannie always says He wants me to be puffickly good, and have no fun at all."
"I am sure the Lord Jesus Christ loves to see you have fun—fun that makes you and everybody else happy is quite right. It is only fun that hurts or destroys anything and anybody that is wrong. Now, Chuckles, will you have the Lord Jesus for your best friend?"
Chuckles gave a little wriggle.
"I don't know Him."
"No, you don't; but I'm going to try to get you to know Him. I shall talk to you about Him, and tell you stories about Him, and read you messages from Him, until you won't be able to keep from loving Him. He is my best friend, and I want Him to be yours. And when you come to see me on Sunday afternoons, you are coming to meet Him and make His acquaintance. He is so close to us now that I am going to speak to Him, and you can listen to what I am saying, if you like."
Sidney bent her head. Chuckles watched her with keen interest.
"O Lord Jesus, will you be Chuckles' Friend? Will You speak to him Yourself, and make him love You and know You. For Thy Name's Sake. Amen."
"Why, that's praying!" said Chuckles. "You said Amen."
"Praying is only speaking," said Sidney. "Now I have talked to you enough. You talk to me."