A friend wishing to find out on what her hopes of happiness rested, and if she had a real sense of sin, said to her, “You talk much of going to heaven, tell me, do you deserve to go there?” “Oh, no,” was her reply, “I do not deserve it.”  “Why not?” In a solemn tone, she answered, “Because I have sinned.”  It was remarked, “How then can you go there?  Heaven is such a holy place, no sin can enter there.”  With the brightest smile she quietly replied, “Ah! but Jesus says he will wash away all my sin, and make my soul quite white, and he will carry me there.”

Oh that all would learn of her thus to take Jesus at his word!  What an enemy to peace is an unbelieving heart!

None spoke ill of this little girl, even those who knew her least remarked, “she was a good pleasant child,” but her grateful affection beamed strongly towards all who showed her any kindness, and one who watched her with interest throughout her illness, will not soon forget the earnest smile of welcome with which she was always greeted, when too ill to speak.  Thus she told her thanks.

Once, the 103d Psalm was read to her, with some remarks on David’s causes of thankfulness.  It was remarked, “You, too, Sarah, have many things to bless God for; for what do you thank him most?” She answered, “Oh, I thank him most for sending Jesus from heaven to save me.”

Many were the words of comfort she spoke to her poor sorrowing mother, whose heart at times seemed almost broken at the prospect of losing her.  She said, “You will not cry, when I am in heaven, dear mother.  I am only going a little while first, and you will soon follow;” and once, on an occasion of deep family distress, she pointed to the surest way for relief, saying, “Mother, why do you cry so?  Does not the Bible say God cares for the sparrows, and are not you better than a sparrow?  O mother, pray, do pray, and then you will be so happy.”

So calmly, so peacefully, did this young disciple enter the dark valley, that truly she might have said,

  “There’s nothing terrible in death
   To those who go to heaven.”

Resting in her Saviour’s love she feared no evil, his rod and his staff they comforted her; sin was her only dread.  Her only fear was that of offending her heavenly Father, and on this point she often did express much anxiety, saying, “Do tell me if I have done wrong.  I do not want to sin; I am so afraid of making God angry.  Sometimes my sins look so black, and seem to come between me and God.”  Then, as if she still felt secure in the only hiding-place for sinners, she added, “But Jesus says he will take them all away, and wash me whiter than snow.”

She delighted much in some little books suited to her age and circumstances that were read to her; one entitled, “The Infant’s Prayer,” and another, “The White Robes,” were her greatest favorites.  In allusion to the last of these, she often prayed, “O Lord Jesus, hear a poor little girl, do give me that beautiful white dress, without one spot or one stain;” and once when her mother noticed a little hurt on her arm occasioned by her putting on a change of dress, she sweetly said, “Never mind that, dear mother; my next dress will not hurt me.”