Green Mountain Freeman

Did He Die For Me?
A little child sat quietly upon its mother's lap. Its soft, blue eyes were looking earnestly into the face which was beaming with love and tenderness for the cherished darling. The maternal lips were busy with a story.—The tones of the voice were low and serious, for the tale was one of mingled sadness and joy.—Sometimes they scarcely rose above a whisper, the listening babe caught every sound. The crimson deepened on its little cheek, as the story went on increasing in interest. Tears gathered in earnest eyes, and a low sob broke the stillness as its mother concluded. A moment and the ruby lips parted, and in tones made tremulous by eagerness, the child inquired,
"Did he die for me, mamma?"
"Yes, my child, for you—for all."
"May I love him always, mamma, and dearly too?"
"Yes, my darling, it was to win your love that he left his bright and beautiful home."
"And he will love me, mamma, I know he will. He died for me. When may I see him in his other home?"
"When your spirit leaves this world, my darling."
"My spirit," murmured the child.
"Yes, your spirit; that part of you which thinks, and knows and loves. If you love him here, you will go to live with him in heaven."
"And I may love him here. How glad you have made me, dear mamma."
And the mother bowed her head and prayed silently and earnestly that her babe might love the Saviour.