“Because He hasn’t got them yet; they don’t know they belong to him.”
“Why doesn’t somebody tell them?”
“They do. People are at work telling them. Did you never hear about the missionaries, child? I thought you belonged to a Mission Band?”
Of course she did, and had heard about missionaries, and assured her grandfather that she gave five cents a month to support them. He did not say that that was a larger sum than he gave regularly for the same purpose; for some reason he did not care to do so; he only said:
“Very well, then, you understand all about it. The Bible says the heathen will be given to Jesus, and the missionaries have gone over there to tell them about it, and show them how to serve the Lord.”
“Has every single one of them heard it?” questioned Sadie, in great earnestness.
“Well, no,” said grandfather; “I believe they haven’t yet.”
“Why don’t they do it faster? Why don’t lots more missionaries go, and take Bibles, and hurry? Because maybe some of them will die before they hear it.”
Sadie was in intense earnest, but her father laughed, and said: “That’s the question, father. Puts some of you Christians in a tight place, doesn’t it?”
Sadie could not imagine what he meant; her grandfather sat at ease in his big leather-covered chair, and was not in a tight place at all. But she was disappointed at his telling her to run away and not ask any more questions for five minutes. If she only had a mamma, Sadie thought, she would ask her all the questions she pleased, for her friend Trudie Brown said that mammas never got tired of answering. But Sadie’s mamma went to heaven when she was a wee baby.