THE BLOOD OF JESUS

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Feb 22, 1905

THE BLOOD OF JESUS.

Three people sat in a car, a motherly woman, a wealthy young man, and a poor widow. They were strangers. Presently the young man noticed that the widow was ill and unconscious. The car stopped, and the two, with help, took her into the drug store. While applying restoratives, her purse dropped, and the lady, opening it to see if any clue to her identity could be found, saw only a bit of change and a faded paper, on which was written the words, “The blood of Jesus Christ . . . cleanseth us from all sin.” 1 John 1:7.

When the woman recovered, they hired a cab and took her home, and on the way she told the story of her sorrow and widowhood, and how she had gone one night into a Moody meeting, partly to rest and partly from curiosity. She only remained a few moments, but as she was passing out, Mr. Moody repeated those words. They clung to her until she reached home. She wrote them upon a bit of paper, and read them over and over until she knew that she, a sinner, was washed in the blood of the Lamb. She had no Bible, and no friend to teach her, but God met her and saved her, and that bit of paper was her treasure.

“I will give you gold for the bit of paper,” the young man said. But, tho she sadly needed comforts, she could not sell it, and told him so. “Do not refuse him,” said the lady; “it may do for him what it has done for you.” Her face grew bright. “Take it, sir,” she said, “without the gold.” He slipped it carelessly into his vest pocket. He had shown all the tenderness of a woman as they had cared for the poor widow, but now his face resumed its old skeptical, cynical expression. After he had gone, they found on the table a twenty-dollar gold piece. Through the kindness of the lady the widow found work, and her health was largely restored.

Two years went by, and, as the lady was walking down Broadway, a gentleman suddenly extended his hand. Embarrassed, she said: “Your face is familiar, but I can not name you.” “Did we not act together the part of a good Samaritan to a poor creature in distress?” Then she knew him, and told him so.

Then he inquired for the one they had befriended, saying, “I left New York that night, and have not been back until to-night. I consider my meeting with you a happy coincidence. Shall you see the poor woman again?” Being told that she would, he said, “Then give her this slip of paper, please, and tell her it proved a blessing, as she prayed it might. I was devoted to the world, and tired of life. I longed for something, I knew not what. The paper was a live thing in my pocket, and haunted me day and night until I became thoroughly convicted and converted.”—Selected.