I am here because

We had some games today for the ladies to play, we had a great deal of fun, but then we considered, is that why we are here? Is our life to be just for pleasure and entertainment?

Some of us think we are to old or infirmed to be able to be of any help to anyone else, and so we considered a story of a cripple boy from the last century.

In one of the miserable East London homes, in a dark, wretched room at the top of the house, lay a cripple boy. He had lain there for over two years, greatly neglected and comparatively unknown. When quite young his parents had died, leaving him to the tender mercies of an aged relative. Born a cripple, he had always been a sufferer; but, as long as he was able, he had swept a crossing on his crutches, or gone short errands to earn a few pence. But soon after his parent’s death the boy had to take to his bed. Very ungraciously the old woman allowed him to occupy the top room of her house, which room he never left again.

His mother had taught him to read and write; but, not knowing the truth for herself, she had never told him of "Jesus and His love." Sometimes, however, on a snowy night when the wind was blowing hard and cold, the lad had crept into a mission hall not far distant, merely for the sake of getting a warm by the comfortable stove. Numb with cold, and weary in body, he took little heed of what he had heard on those nights; but now, lying alone day after day, there came to his mind the memory of it, and by degrees he was possessed with a great longing to know more of the things of God, and to have a Bible of his own. He knew that it was from the Bible that the speakers had gathered their knowledge, but that was all. So, summoning his courage, he one day consulted granny about it. His only encouragement in that direction was a laugh. " Bibles weren't in her line! What did a lad like him want with Bibles?" So, the matter dropped for a time, but the lads desire to possess one did not grow less.

One day, however, up the creaking stairs came noisy, boisterous Jack Lee, the only friend the cripple had in the world. "Hurrah! Hurrah! Got a new birth! Off north tomorrow! Come to say goodbye, Tom," he cried, all excitement, seating himself on the bed, and wiping the perspiration from his brow. "But I've got a real beauty present for you, my lad," taking from his pocket something wrapped in a greasy bit of brown paper. Tom raised himself on his elbows, not at all gladdened by the news he had heard. "A bright new shilling for you, Tom, lad. And you're not to spend it till yer wants suffin real particular."

"Oh Jack! You're good, but I want something now very particular."

"Yer do? What's he?"

"I WANT A BIBLE."

"A bible! Well, I never! Spending all that on a Bible, when I had to save months and months to save it in coppers."

"Don't be angry Jack," said the cripple boy.

"I do so want a Bible. Please get it Jack, now, this very evening, at Fisher's, afore the shop closes. Granny never would; she would spend it in gin, if I let it get into her hands."

"What can ya want with a Bible, Tom, lad.? Only scholars understand them there things," he answered rather crossly.

"Maybe so, Jack, but I'm hankering after one."

"Very well, lad, then I'll go, but I knows nought about Bible buyin' Fisher has 'em at a shilling, for I saw 'em marked in the window when I used to go by."

Jack descended the stairs less rapidly than he had mounted them. But he got over his disappointment before he returned with a beautiful shilling Bible.

"Fisher says I couldn't leave you a better friend, Tom, lad, the shilling couldn't be vested better; and, says he, 'it may be worth thousan' pound to the lad.' So, 'pears there's a suffin as we ought to know about."

Tom's joy and gratitude were unbounded. "I know it, Jack. I know it!" Hugging the book to his breast.

"I'm happy now. Oh! How kind you were to save that shilling."

So, Tom got his Bible, and valued it, and read it.

Do you? - you, reader-man, woman, boy, girl, do you value and read the Book of God? If so, you will find out what Cripple Tom discovered. And what was that? He found out he was a sinner, lost, and in need of a Saviour, and he found the Saviour in Jesus. He trusted Him, confessed Him, loved Him, and was filled with a great longing to do something for Him. But what could He do? Tied to a bed of sickness, it seemed as if he could do nothing but lie still and suffer.

As we read on we found that this boy gave up his daily ration of milk he received from his granny in exchange for pencils and paper, and as he read God's Word, he wrote out scripture and threw is out into the London streets, he had no way of knowing if anyone was picking them up but as far as he was concerned what mattered was that his Saviour, Jesus, knew. but then one day he heard someone come up the stairs, a wealthily gentleman who came to thank him, and offer him a good home were he could end is days in ease and comfort. Tom's reply:

The weary lad looked wistfully into the man’s kindly face, and after a few moments silence answered: “Thank’ee, sir; I have heard tell of ‘em afore, but I ain’t anxious to die easy when He died hard. I might get taken up with them things a bit too much, and I’d rather be a lookin’ at Him, and carryin’ on this ‘ere work till He come to fetch me.”

“Well, my lad, then I will see that you have proper food and all the paper you need while you live. I will settle it with one of the Bible-women. Now, laddie, before I go I want you to pray aloud for me.”

There was a bright light on the poor, pale, upturned face, as he said in a tone of the deepest reverence: “Lord Jesus, I know you’re a-listenin’, and I’m much obliged to You for sending this gentleman here to cheer me in my work. Now, Lord Jesus, he’s a bit troubled about not havin’ lived for Thee in past days, will You help him to see that there’s nothing’ left undone in the comin’ days? And please, Lord, make him go straight away and tell them other rich men of Thy love. Now, Lord Jesus, please bless this kind friend, all roads and always. I ask this for Thy name’s sake.”

“Amen” said the deep-toned voice.

Then the gentleman rose, and said farewell. Before leaving London, he made arrangement for the lad to be cared for, and then with a gladder heart he went back to his beautiful country home, and lived for Christ. News of the dying lad reached them from time to time through the Bible-woman, but it was not till winter set in, and the snow had fallen and covered the earth with its crystal whiteness, that they heard the dear lad had

GONE TO BE WITH JESUS.

The same post brought a parcel which contained Tom’s much-prized and much-used Bible. What a precious relic was that marked Bible in that beautiful home! For when the cripple boy’s friend lent it to his youngest son to read, the careful marking, the short simple prayers written by the cripple lad on the margin, and the dying wish on the fly-leaf, written about a week before his death, that “This Holy book may be as great a friend to someone else as it have been to me,” made a deep impression on the youth that he got converted, and gave himself to the Lord, and later on to mission work in foreign fields; and out in Central Africa he has shown that worn-out Bible to many a native Christian telling them about Cripple Tom and his texts.

Reader, young or old, have you learned to know the Lord Jesus as your personal Saviour? If not, He waits to be gracious – to be to you little child, and to you, grown-up man and woman, all that He was to Cripple Tom. If you know Him, are you seeking to serve Him? If a dying lad, in suffering and destitution, could joyfully deny the little sip of milk, which cooled his parched lips, and partly fed his weary body, surely it is possible for us to suffer a little, deny ourselves a little, and work a little for the blessed Saviour, who has loved us, and given Himself for us.