“Dad, you know it is time we gather our tracts together and go out.”
Father responded by saying, “Son, it is a very cold day and pouring down with rain!”
The lad gave a very surprised look, saying “But father, are not people still going to Hell, even though it is raining?” “Son, we cannot go out in this weather.” Despondently the boy asked, “May I go, please?” His father hesitated for a moment then said, “Son, you may go, here are some tracts, but do be careful son.”
“Thank you, father!” And with that he was off and out into the rain.
The eleven-year old boy walked the streets of the town, going from door to door, handing a Gospel tract to all he met. Two hours later he was soaked, bone-chilled, wet and down to his very last tract. He stopped on the street corner and looked for someone to whom he could pass on this very last one, but the streets were totally deserted.
He then turned toward the first home he saw, went up to the front door and rang the bell. Nobody answered. He rang it again and again but still no answer. He waited and still no answer. Finally he turned to leave but something stopped him. Again he turned to face the door, he rang the bell, and also knocked loudly on the door. He waited, something was holding him there at the front door. He rang once again and this time the door slowly opened.
Standing in the doorway was a very sad-looking elderly lady. She asked softly, “What can I do for you, son?”
With radiant eyes and a smile that lit up her world, the little boy said, “Ma’am, I’m sorry if I disturbed you, but I just want to tell you that God really does love you and I came to give you this my very last Gospel tract which will tell you all about Jesus, His great sacrifice and love. With that he handed her his last tract and turned to leave. She called out to him as he departed – “Thank you son and may God bless you.”
The following Sunday morning the Pastor—his father—was in the pulpit. As the service began, he asked, “Does anybody have a testimony they would like to give?”
Quietly and slowly in the back row an elderly lady stood up. As she began to speak a look of glorious radiance was upon her face.
She said, “No one in his meeting knows me. I’ve never been here before. You see, before last Sunday I was not a believer. My husband passed away some time ago, leaving me totally alone in this world.
Last Sunday being a particularly cold and rainy day, it was even more so cold in my heart, for I had come to the end of all hope – I could no longer go on. I had no desire nor will to live. So, I took a rope and chair and ascended the stairway into the attic. I fastened the rope securely to a rafter in the roof, then stood upon the chair and fastened the other end of the rope around my neck. Standing upon that chair, so lonely and miserable, I was about to leap off when suddenly the loud ringing of my doorbell downstairs startled me. I thought, I’ll wait a minute and whoever it is will go away. I waited and waited but the ringing of the doorbell seemed to get louder and more insistent. Then the person ringing the doorbell began to also knock loudly. I thought to myself, who on earth can this be? Nobody ever rings my bell or come to see me.
I loosened the rope from my neck and headed for the front door as the bell rang louder and louder. When I opened the door and looked, I could hardly believe my eyes. For there was the most radiant and angelic-faced little boy that I had ever seen in my life. His smile, oh I could never describe it to you! And the words that came from his mouth, caused my heart that had so long been so dead, to leap to life, as he exclaimed with an angel-like voice, ‘Ma’am, I just came to tell you that God really does love you!’ Then he gave me this Gospel tract that I now hold in my hand and the Angel-boy disappeared out into the cold and rain. I closed the door and read slowly every word of this tract. I then went up to my attic to get that rope and chair. I would not be needing them anymore, for you see, I believed and became a happy child of God. Since the address of your place was on the back of this tract, I have come here to personally say ‘thank-you’ to God, for His little messenger came ‘in just the nick of time’ and by so doing, spared my soul from an eternity of separation from God, in Hell.”
By this time there were now no dry eyes, and shouts of praise and thanksgiving resounded to the very rafters of the building. Pastor-dad descended from the pulpit to the front seat where the little lad was seated. He took his son up in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.