(a classic illustration by D. L. Moody)
At the close of one of the afternoon meetings we had in the Berkeley street church a few weeks ago, a little child brought me a note. I put it in my pocket, and read it when I got home.
It was this, "Won’t you pray that my mother may come home?" On inquiry I found that she was a little waif, her father was dead, and that her mother had deserted her and gone out to San Francisco, and had been gone over a year. Well, I must confess it kind of staggered me that they should pray that that mother might come back.
But this note has just been handed to me, "You will remember the little child who asked prayers for her mother to return home, having been absent a year. This mother has returned, and was at the meeting with her little child on Friday night." The little child now wants us to pray that her dear mother may be converted.
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