Grandpa was sick, and little Fannie loved to be with him, and to read to him. She would sit down by his bedside and say—” Shall I read my story, grandpa?”
And the story to which she referred was that in the New Testament, which begins with “Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem.” She called it “my story” because she liked it so much, and she never got tired of reading it. One day, when she had finished reading, she said, “Grandpa, you are a wise man, but you didn’t have to take a long journey to find Jesus, like the wise men I was reading about, did you?”
“What makes you think I didn’t?” asked grandpa, with a trembling voice.
“Because, grandpa, Jesus stays right by us, all the time; so we’ve only got to whisper to Him, and He hears us.”
The days went on, and one evening, not long after this, all the family gathered around grandpa’s bed to say good-bye to him before he died.
When he came to speak to little Fannie, he laid his hand gently on her head and said, “Good-bye, my darling. When I get to heaven, the beautiful city, I will tell the blessed Savior that you were my star.”
“O grandpa, why?” asked Fannie, as the tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Because, darling, you led me to Jesus, just as the star you have often read about, led the wise men to Him. And your light shone so steadily that I could not lose my way.