Suppose

Suppose that “when the roll is called up yonder” I am there myself, but that all through the eternal ages I am unable to find a single person who is there because of my having led him to Christ―how much will heaven mean to me?
Read our last page, and help us to get the 100,000 Testaments we want to help these souls to heaven. Heaven will mean much to you then.
“For God’s sake, brother,” writes a Tommy to a Christian friend, “send something to cheer a down-hearted soldier. We cannot say or sing every time, ‘Are we down-hearted? No,’ for we are, and deep down at that.” Dear fellow, if he had a khaki Testament in his pocket he could read, “Let not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in Me” and “Come unto Me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” We will send the “something” he needs to cheer him gladly-the light of God, to shine in through the windows of his soul and make it bright with heaven.
Any “Tommy” who wants a Testament to cure his downheartedness shall have it if he will send to me for it. And we will send to those who will give them to him if you will help us to do it. Five pounds will get us a thousand Testaments to send to him and others like him, and we want one hundred thousand.