When all the people had come back with the sad tidings that no trace of Janet could be found, she wept aloud.
Nearly twelve months passed away, but Janet was not happy with the gipsies. "Take me to my mother," she often said with tears. "Oh, do let me go home again!" They tried to please her with their wandering ways of life, but she could find no pleasure in them. She used to sit on the side of the road wherever they went, and look on every passer-by, to see if she could find any one she knew. But no, all faces were strange. She did not know that she was many miles away from her mother's cottage.
As time went on, the gipsies saw that Janet became very pale and ill. She was so weak that they thought she would die. They then told her that, in a few weeks, they would go back to the woods where they first met with her, and that she should again see her mother. How did Janet count the days and hours till the time came; and when they once more reached the woods, she clapped her hands for joy.
It was again the autumn of the year, and the reapers were at work in the fields. They were very busy, for they were afraid that a storm was coming on. It was just such a cloudy evening as that when Janet was lost. They had cut down all the corn at the lower part of one of the fields, and had just reached a corner which lay against the entrance to the wood, when who should they see but a little gipsy girl. She ran as well as she could, for she was very feeble, towards them, crying, "I am Janet! My name is Janet Bruce. Oh, carry me home to my mother!"
The reapers stopped in their work, and one of them caught the girl up in his arms, and looking for a moment in her face, shouted out, "Yes, it is she! It is Janet herself!" There could be no mistake, for though she had grown taller, and her dress was ragged, and her face was brown, they knew her again in a moment.
The work of the day was soon over, and a seat of boughs of trees was quickly made, into which they put Janet; then two of the strongest men raised her upon their shoulders, and carried her towards her own dear home. Some went before—men, boys, and women—and some followed after; and as they went they sang aloud for joy.
The glad tidings soon reached Janet's cottage, and the mother rushed forward to meet her child. But we cannot tell you what were the feelings of the poor widow as she clasped Janet once more in her arms. The gipsy dress was taken off, and better clothes put on, and like the father in the parable, the widow said, "This my child was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found."
And so it is when a sinner is brought by the Holy Spirit to return to God. With shame and sorrow he says, "Father, I have sinned." But God, who is rich in mercy, is ready to forgive. He will, for Christ's sake, hear prayer. Through His precious blood He will pardon sin. He will take off the ragged garments of sin, and put on the white robe of Jesus' righteousness, and receive coming sinners as His children. Then what sounds of joy are heard in heaven, when those who were lost are brought home to dwell for ever in their Father's house!
Dear child, through the fall you are lost. Have you been truly brought as a penitent to Christ? If so, you are found.
Do not forget this—all the while any one knows not what it is to come to Christ for mercy and pardon, he is lost. But the moment a sinner is truly brought to the cross of Christ for salvation, he is found. Are you among the lost or among the found?