“I waited patiently for the Lord; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry.” Psalms 40:1
In a dark and dismal alley where the sunshine never came, dwelt a little lad named Tommy, sick and delicate and lame.
He was six was little Tommy and ’twas five years ago that his drunken mother dropped him, and the babe was crippled so.
‘Twas a quiet summer evening, and the alley too was still,
Tommy’s little heart was breaking, and he felt so lonely ’til,
Floating up the quiet alley, coming inward from the street, came the sound of someone singing, sounding oh so clear and sweet!
‘Twas a maiden rough and rouged, hair unkempt and naked feet, all her garments torn and ragged, her appearance far from neat.
“So, you called me?”, said the maiden. “Wonder what you want of me. Most folks call me singing Jessie…what may your name chance to be?”
“My name is Tommy, and I want to hear you sing, for it makes me feel so happy…sing me something…anything.
Jessie laughed and answered smiling, “I can’t stay here very long, but I’ll sing a song to please you…one I call, ‘The Glory Song.”
So, she sang to him of heaven, pearly gates and streets of gold, where the happy angel children are not starved or nipped with cold.
Oh how Tommy’s eyes did glisten as he drank in every word, as it fell from singing Jessie; was it true what he had heard?
And so anxiously he asked her, “Is there really such a place?” and a tear began to trickle down his pallid little face.
So the ragged little maiden who had heard at Sunday school, all about the way to heaven and the Christian golden rule,
Taught the little crippled Tommy how to love and how to pray, then she sang a song of Jesus, kissed his cheek and went away.
Tommy lay within that cellar, which had grown so dark and cold, thinking all about the children in the streets of shining gold.
“Oh, if I could only see it,” thought the cripple as he lay, “Jessie said that Jesus listens, so I think I’ll try to pray.”
So he put his hands together, and he closed his little eyes, and in accents weak, yet earnest, sent this message to the skies:
Gentle Jesus, please forgive me as I didn’t know ‘afore that you cared for little cripples that is weak and very poor; and I never heard of heaven ’till that Jessie came today, and told me all about it, now I want to try to pray.
Lord, I’m only just a cripple and I’ve no use here below, for I’ve heard my mother whisper she’d be glad if I could go. I’m so cold and hungry, and I feel so lonesome too…can’t you take me gentle Jesus up to heaven along with you? Oh, I’d be so good and patient, and I’d never make a noise…can’t you find me just a corner where I’d watch the other boys?
How I long to see you Jesus, and the children all so bright…come and fetch me…won’t you Jesus? ….Come and fetch me home tonight!
Tommy ceased his supplication, he had told his soul’s desire; then he turned toward a corner ’till his head begin to tire.
He had only heard of Jesus from a ragged singing girl. He might well have wondered…pondered, ’till his head begin to whirl. But he took it as she told it, and believed it then and there, simply trusting in the Savior and His kind and gentle care.
In the morning, when the mother came to wake her crippled boy, she discovered that his features wore the look of sweetest joy.
Then she shook him somewhat roughly, but the cripple’s face was cold. He had gone to join the children in the streets of shining gold.
Yes, Tommy’s prayer had soon been answered, and the angel death had come
To remove him from that cellar to his bright and heavenly home; Where sweet peace, joy and happiness never ceases… never ends;
And where Jesus reigns eternally…Tommy’s everlasting friend!
Submitted by: Glenda Jones