“I feel very naughty sometimes. I get angry and cross, and I think naughty things, if I don’t say them; and then I am miserable, and it doesn’t seem as if God would care for me any more. Once or twice, when I’ve been frightened, I’ve said things that were not quite true. I know God can’t love me any more if I do that. I sometimes think that is why He won’t hear me when I pray to Him.”
Uncle Fred was too wise to make light of Bertie’s little recital of sins. He said gravely, and gently,—
“You will have to get those sins taken away, Bertie, before you can feel quite happy again, or before you will feel to be one of God’s little children.”
Bertie look up pleadingly.
“Will Jesus take them away if I ask Him?”
“Yes, Bertie, indeed He will. He is always waiting for us to come to Him with our sins. He can see our hearts. He knows when we are really sorry; and if we are, He washes away our sins in His precious blood, and make us worthy to call ourselves the sons of God.”
“But—but—”
“Well, my child, what is your difficulty?”
“I don’t quite know how to say it; but don’t you think He might not care to listen to anybody like me? He would love you—perhaps He likes grown-up people to come; but I’m only a little boy—and I don’t belong to anybody—and perhaps—”
“You belong to Jesus, Bertie,” was the gravely-spoken answer. “You belong to the dear Lord who died on the cross to save you. And can you not tell me who it was that said, ‘Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not?’ Is He likely after that to forbid them Himself?”