I KNOW how much little ones love to hear about other children, so I am going to tell you about a dear little girl whose governess I was some years ago.
Nellie, like many other little girls and boys I have known, had the habit of taking off her gloves when out of doors. She had often been told not to do so, lest she should lose them. Well, one day while riding with her papa, mamma, and myself, she forgot what I had so often told her, and took them off. They were a nice pair of new gloves.
In a few minutes she found she had lost one. Her papa, who was very angry with her repeated disobedience, desired her to get out of the carriage and go and look for it, saying he should drive on, and she might either wait for our return, or go home again. We were about a mile from the house, and it was a lovely bright day early in June. I felt very sorry for the dear little thing, knowing she was naturally very timid, and would feel terrified by being left alone, so I asked to be allowed to help her to look; but her papa, wishing to punish her, would not allow me, so I could only ask the Lord to be with her.
I can see her sorrowful little face now, as we drove off, and left her by the roadside.
We were gone nearly two hours, and you can fancy how often my heart was with Nellie in that time, as I wondered whether she had found her glove, whether she was still waiting for us to return, or had gone home; and very glad I was when we started homewards. As we neared the spot where we had left her, I anxiously looked out for her little figure, and about a quarter of a mile nearer the house than we had left her we saw her standing by the roadside, awaiting us. She looked up very happily, showing us the glove, but the red swollen eyes told their own tale.
Her papa asked her where she had found it; she told him a man gave it to her who had found it, in the road, and nothing more was said.
On reaching home Nellie went to the nursery, and I did not see her again until after dinner.
I had gone to my room to get ready to go to a small Bible reading I had for some old women in the village near, and Nellie came to ask if she might go with me. As I knew their mamma never objected to any of them going who wished, I told her, “Yes,” and she ran off to get dressed. I felt there was something peculiar in the child’s manner, as she put her little hand in mine; and we were scarcely out of sight of the house before she said, “O, I am so happy, I know Jesus now.”
“How is that, Nellie?” I asked; “tell me about it.”
She then gave me the following account, which I will tell you in her own words as nearly as possible.
“After you had all left me, I felt rather afraid of being quite alone; but all at once I thought, Well, if it is true, as Miss G. has so often told me, that Jesus is always near, and knows everything about us, and loves us so much, He must know why I am here, and all about my glove.
I’ll ask Him, and then I shall see if it really is true. So I knelt down and said, ‘O, Jesus, have you really died for me? are you living in heaven now? do you love me? and O, dear Lord Jesus, do take care of me, and let me find my glove.’
“I felt very happy while I was kneeling down, and somehow I felt that Jesus was really, very near, and listening to all I said; and when I got up I felt so sure I should find the glove, and not a bit afraid, and everything looked so bright and beautiful.
“I went on a little way, and looked about as I went for my glove. In a few minutes a man came along and said, ‘Well, little maid, what are you looking for?’ I told him a brown kid glove. He laughed, and said, ‘Well, I wonder whether this is it,’ and held up my own very glove. I was so glad, and thanked him very much.’
As soon as he was out of sight, I knelt down behind the hedge, and thanked Jesus, O, so very much, for I knew He had made the man give me my glove, and that he had heard me ask Him for it. I did not go home because I liked staying out there in the sunshine, thinking how good He was, and He seemed with me all the time.”
“So you see,” she added, “I do know your Jesus now, and He is mine too.”
ML-07/11/1920