Saved to Serve
A lady writes:—
Dear Dr. Wreford,—I am enclosing a small donation to help the blessed work you are doing. I am so thankful that I am saved, and I want to help others to know that salvation is free for all, for we know not how soon the Lord will come. —Yours very sincerely, A. M. I—.
A. J. writes:—
Please receive one pound to send Testaments to those who need them.... May the Lord prosper you in His service.
S., Bournemouth, writes:—
I enclose £3 in Treasury Notes to get some Scriptures with. I had thought of Russia, but I think I will leave it to you to send them abroad wherever you have most call.
A lady writes:—
Enclosed 10/- for distribution of Testaments; 5/- especially for the children.
We must not forget the children. The Lord Jesus loved the little children when on earth, and He loves them in heaven today. Help us to continue the blessed work of sending God’s Word to the little ones, as well as to their fathers and mothers. I have no room for more letters now. I wish to say, God bless you, dear friends, for all your loving help, and I ask you earnestly for your prayers.
Yours for Christ’s sake, HEYMAN WREFORD.
Incidents of the War and the Peace
Ten thousand golden fields are waiting for the harvest now. The countryside is laden with the gifts of God to man. We think of other fields “white to harvest,” precious grain for God to be garnered. Oh! what of our sowing and what of our reaping? When we get to heaven, “What shall the harvest be?” Help us, dear friends, in the sowing and the reaping. We want to sow the good seed—the Word of God—broadcast over the world.
“I AM DYING; CAN YOU HELP ME?”
Sergeant B—says that when he was in hospital there was a young soldier in one of the beds dying; the doctor told him he had not many hours to live. When the doctor had gone he turned to the nurse and said, “I am dying; can you help me?” She said, “I am here to see after your body, not your soul,” and went out at the door. He then turned to a soldier in the next bed, and said, “Can you help me? Do you know anything?” “No, I don’t know anything,” the soldier answered; “but I remember one thing my mother taught me when I was a little lad:
“ ‘Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,
Look upon a little child;
Pity my simplicity,
Suffer me to come to Thee.’”
“Oh! say it again,” the dying man said. He repeated it. Then he laid quiet for a little while; then, “It’s all right now,” he said, “He’s come,” and he turned over and died. Does it not show how the loving Lord saves to the uttermost?