“Do you know who you belong to before me?” said his mother. “You know, Arthur, you have told me, and I believe it is true, that you have put your trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, and that His blood has washed all your sins away. Then, if that is true of you, you are your own no longer. You belong to Him; for He has bought you with a price. Is it not sweet, my darling, to feel that He says to you now, while you are being left at home, ‘Thou art mine’? You know I love to take care of you, because you are mine; and don’t you think He does much more? You know the Bible says that a mother may forget, but God never.”
“Oh, mother, it is so nice to hear you talk,” said Arthur. “Go on, please.”
“Well, I was going to say, the Lord Jesus is always the best Friend; and now that you are going to leave me, perhaps you will think of Him, and look to Him, more than you have ever done before. Oh, Arthur, my child, get to know Him better; talk to Him as you have talked to me; tell Him about your little troubles, and joys, and sorrows; tell Him when you feel lonely and weary, and sit at His feet, just as you are now sitting at mine. Do you think He would turn you away? Just pour out your heart before Him, whatever is in it, because He loves you as only He can love.”
“But, mamma, I can’t see Him as I see you.”
“No, my child; but that is where faith comes in. You must believe when you do not see; and remember that He said, ‘Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.’”
“Mother, I think you were going to say something else,” said Arthur, after a little while.
“Yes; I was talking about the first half of the text I had in my mind, and that I give you to keep from me—‘Whose I am, and whom I serve,’ I want you to know the sweetness of the first, my darling, and then I think you will want the last to be true of you, and He will show you the way.”
“Yes, I know,” said Arthur meditatively, “I ought to be patient, and gentle, and thoughtful; and, you know, mamma, it is just my nature to be the opposite, and I don’t know how on earth I can be all that to that aunt.”
“Oh, hush, dear! Of course you could not be expected to love her much at first; but that ought not to make any difference; for it is to please the Lord Jesus that you are to be all this, and the harder it is for you the more He will know that you really do try to please Him. Then, are there not other ways? I mean things that you could do to bring honour to Him. Think of your being the means of bringing God’s salvation to anybody, or of making the heart of any of His people glad.”
“Yes,” Arthur said, “and I think I could try. I could give away tracts, or I could visit sick old women.”