Christ, it is certain, would wash them white enough, and give them a place in His kingdom; but they know nothing of Christ, and we who do know, to whom His name is a sound too familiar to excite any attention, His story too often read, too often heard of, to call up any emotion—we are either too lazy, or too selfish, or too ignorant of their ignorance, to tell them of Him.
Now for the first time Flo learned about God, and about God’s dear Son, our Saviour. A little too about Heaven, and a very little about prayer.
If she spoke ever so low, down in her dark cellar, God would hear her, and some day, Mrs Jenks said, He would come for her, and carry her away to live with Him in Heaven.
Only a glimmering of the great truth could be given at one time to the child’s dark mind, but there is a vast difference between twilight and thick darkness, and this difference took place in Flo’s mind that day.
She listened with hardly a question—a breathless, astonished look on her face, and when Mrs Jenks had ceased speaking, she rose slowly and tied on mother’s old bonnet.
“May I come again?” asked Flo, raising her lips to kiss the little woman.
“Yes, my child, come again to-morrow. I shall look out for you to-morrow.”
And Flo promised to come.