"Poor child!" replied her mother. "I wish now that I had, for your sake."
[CHAPTER II.]
THE CHILDREN'S FRIEND.
IT was a happy day for Polly and Bessie when God put it into their mother's heart to send them to a Sunday school, in order, as she said, to amuse and give them something to think and talk of. From that time, the poor neglected children were no longer dull and lonely, for Jesus was with them, and they thought and spoke of little else.
"Have you ever noticed," inquires a Christian writer, "that little children sometimes seem to understand something about Jesus before they can be made to understand anything else. I suppose God teaches them. There is no other way of accounting for it."
Doubtless He does. And thus it was that God the Holy Spirit taught the little children of whom we write, even before they were able to read for themselves; opening their hearts to understand and love those heavenly truths "hidden from the wise and prudent, and revealed unto babes."
The Bible was their one book. Polly was just beginning to read, while little Bessie did not even know her letters. But the latter had a wonderful memory, and could repeat chapters by heart after hearing them read over a few times, stumbling over a hard word now and then, as was only to be expected, but seldom missing the sense. The little Bible was the gift of their kind teacher, and although even Polly could not yet manage to read it well, they prized it very highly, always speaking of it as God's Book. It was the only book they read, and, except the "Pilgrim's Progress," which their teacher read to them sometimes, it was the only book, they knew. Its wonderful narratives with their deep meaning and pathos, yet so simple and childlike, filled their memories and hearth. Their minds were stored with scriptural facts to an extent far beyond their years.
Being, as we have said, the children's only book, it was scarcely to be wondered at that Bessie should often express herself in the beautiful language of Scripture. On a windy day, for instance, she would direct her mother's attention to the trees in Lincoln's Inn Fields "clapping their hands;" or point out in winter the little sparrow "sitting alone on the house-top;" or speak of "the bow in the clouds," after a summer shower. She never spoke of the church, always calling it "the Lord's house," and wondering how it was that her father and mother never "went up to worship in its courts."
Even as the Bible was their only book, so, save their parents, the Lord Jesus Christ was the only friend the poor neglected little ones had ever known. But what a friend! All-powerful, and yet so kind and loving; dying a cruel death upon the cross for them, and living evermore to make intercession for them in heaven; not only graciously permitting, but tenderly inviting, them to come to Him; rebuking even His disciples for their sakes, and for that of every timid and believing child in all ages. "Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of heaven."
It seemed to the little children of whom we write just as if they had heard the blessed Saviour calling to them, and saying, "Polly—little Bessie—follow Me." And so they did in their hearts by faith, and so may every little child who reads this book, if he or she will only believe and come to Jesus.