The Countess and the Chimney Sweep

Dear Boys and Girls,

Many years ago, there lived in London a Countess whose husband had died, but who had a little five-year old boy called Charles. The lady was a Christian, and she longed for Charles to love Jesus, too. She spoke to him, and prayed with him often; and told him about Jesus. But Charles was very disobedient and cheeky, and whenever the Bible was being read, or prayers being said, he would fidget and try to think of other things. His mummy persevered on, teaching him this prayer –‘Lord, convert me – change my heart – teach me to love Thee, and to love my brethren as Jesus Christ loved us, Amen.’ But she was most upset by his bad behaviour.

One day, as she was sitting in tears, thinking of Charles, a servant came into the room, and told her that the other servants had been hunting for Charles for well over an hour, but couldn’t find him. All that day and the next, they hunted, and also advertised in the newspapers. A reward was offered, too, but Charles seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth.

How sad his mother was, as she tried to remember, even one time in his life when little Charles had uttered from his heart any of the prayers she had taught him. But all she could remember was his disobedient ways.

One day, three years later, she returned back home from the country unexpectedly to find the servants busy spring-cleaning the house. As she passed through the hallway, she noticed a little chimney sweep leaning against the wall. In those days, little boys were used as chimney-sweeps, and they had to climb right up into the chimneys to clean them.

This little boy was crying. “What is the matter, child?” said the Countess. “I am crying,” said the boy,“Because my master will beat me again; not a day passes but he beats me for something or other.” “Well,” said the Countess,“I will speak to him.” “Oh no,” said the boy,“that will just make things worse for me. I complain to nobody, but in the evening, I speak to God. I ask Him to take me back to my mother.” “Do you know where she lives?” said the Countess. “No,” he cried. But, as he gave a description of all he could remember about his mother and his home, the Countess began to cry, too. She began to hope; but she must be sure, and so, continued to ask some more questions.

“And has the Lord never answered you? My child.”“Not yet, madame, but He will hear me one day I am sure, because He says so in His Word. I have asked God to make me better, and I think I am not so bad. I read a little in my New Testament that a good man gave me, and I pray every day this prayer my mother taught me: ‘Lord, convert me – change my heart – teach me to love Thee, and to love my brethren as Jesus Christ loved us, Amen.’” “My child, my child,” cried the Countess, putting her arms around him,“you are my son Charles, for that is the prayer I taught him before he was lost.” The little boy said,“That is the name my mother called me!” Just then the master-sweep came along, and was able to explain to the Countess when asked, that he had been given the little boy to look after by an old man some years before. As it turned out, this old man had in fact, kidnapped Charles, hoping to make some money by hiring him out as a chimney sweep. The old man had died, and the master-sweep was left with Charles.

How happy the Countess and Charles were. How thankful they were to God. And to show their thankfulness to God, they began to show great kindness to the unfortunate little boys who were forced to become chimney-sweeps in the great city of London. Each year, on the date when Charles and his mother were reunited, they had a special party for lots of the chimney-sweep boys. And on this occasion they used to love to tell of how God had answered their prayers, and had not only brought them together again, but had – above all things – made Charles a true believing Christian who loved his name.