LITTLE JIM by MRS. L. D. AVERY-STUTTLE

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jan 23, 1900

LITTLE JIM.

By MRS. L. D. AVERY-STUTTLE

MRS. L. D. AVERY-STUTTLE.

He lay with wee hands folded In his little trundle-bed, While the glory of the sunset Shone about the golden head; And the chilling night winds whispered Through the broken window pane, As anon the white lips murmured,— Murmured o’er and o’er again,—

“Mamma, tell your boy a story; Little Jim is tired to-night: Tell about the angels, mamma, ’Bout the shining angels bright; Tell about the blessed Saviour, How he lived upon the earth, How he healed the poor, blind beggar,— Blind and wretched from his birth.”

Then she told the sweet old story, In a voice so low and mild,— Told him of the blessed angels,— Told him of the dear Christ-child. And the loving voice grew tender, And the sightless eyes grew dim: “Mamma, does the gentle Saviour Love a little boy like Jim?

“Sometimes when the pain is dreadful, And the room is lone and chill, And I hear the plaintive music Of the pines upon the hill, Then I pray that he will take me,— That he’ll come from out the skies,— That he’ll lay his healing fingers On my sad and sightless eyes.

“Mamma, I am very tired, But I know that ere the day Beams within my little chamber, I shall surely pass away. Kneel and tell the Lord, dear mamma, That I’ll patient wait for him Till the resurrection morning, When he calls for little Jim.”