Moments of Melody with our greetings. It was Christmas Eve. The train was very crowded and the only available seat was next to a fifteen-year-old boy. The man sat down next to the boy and remarked that probably everyone wanted to be home for Christmas. The boy didn't answer. He apparently had been crying. The man said no more and waited for the boy to speak. It didn't seem right to him that a boy should be crying on Christmas Eve. Finally the lad wiped his eyes and looked around as if nothing had happened. The man smiled at him, but received only a half-hearted smile in return. "'It's so wonderful to be going home for Christmas,' the man remarked. He noticed his young traveling companion was trying to stifle a sob. "'It ought to be,' the boy replied. "'See here, my young friend,' the man said. I don't know what kind of trouble you're in, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I think maybe I can help you." The boy looked at him for a moment and then said, I'll tell you. I just have to tell somebody. He looked out of the window, as he said, I don't deserve to celebrate Christmas, but I sure would like to. I've been away from home for four months. I was sick of school and all the homework. My father has a store and a farm. I had to get up every morning before daybreak and milk cows. I got pretty fed up. All the other boys in my school had part-time jobs. But I didn't think of what I had to do as a real job. So one day I just ran away from home. I didn't realize what an awful thing I was doing or how I would manage in another town. I just gave way to temptation and hopped a freight train that was passing through our town. Towards evening the freight train slowed down. going through another town, and so I hopped off. I'd never been in such a big city, and I was afraid. I had a little money with me, but it didn't last long. It seemed that grown-ups have a way of telling how old a boy is. Everyone told me to go home. That was the big problem, however. My folks would be angry. But even if they wouldn't be, I didn't want to come home like a whipped puppy. I was too ashamed. Well, I finally wrote my father. I didn't give him my address, but I told him I would be on this train. And if they wanted me, I would stay. If they didn't, I would just keep going." Van looked at his young companion and asked, What are you afraid of? I'm afraid that they won't want me. But how will you know? Have you arranged for some sort of signal so that you'll know if they're expecting you? Yes. I asked my father to tie a white cloth to the old apple tree in our garden if he wanted me back. The tree is close to the railroad track, and I should be able to see it easily. We'll be there soon. But I can't look. Don't worry. You won't have to look. I'll be your eyes and tell you what I see, the man said. The shrill whistle of the locomotive pierced the air. The trembling boy sat eagerly on the edge of his seat. His voice was choked, as he said. We're about there. You look. I can't. But I'm afraid you won't be able to see anything, because I don't think there will be any white cloth. They don't want me back. As the train slowly rounded the curve, the man strained hard to see through the falling snow. But there was no need to worry, because even if he were half-blind, he would have been able to see it. Look, the apple tree is full of bloom. On its branches there were not one, but at least fifty long white claws flapping in the wind like banners, conveying the message of forgiveness and love. We've been reading from the article, The Hearty Welcome. It goes on, How much greater is God's love? Just imagine the hearty welcome and unlimited forgiveness that our Heavenly Father extends to a repentant, sin-sick wonder who returns to him. Here is a message of God's word. Come now and let us reason together, saith the Lord. Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow. Though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. God has given every evidence that he wants you to come home. The message of God's book the Bible is come. Come unto me. What better time than now to say, Lord, I'm coming home. I want your forgiveness. Thank you for sending me your son.