This weekend I had the opportunity of spending the weekend with the children of our church at a one night retreat. Saturday they made crafts that we took to the nursing home this morning. I don’t know what it is about nursing homes, either the putrid smell that perpetuates my nostrils, or the horrific sight of death staring into my eyes, but going into nursing homes is so difficult for me. However, our children would go up to all the old ladies and men and give them the gifts and a big hug. I wish I had the compassion of a child. Also, as some of the younger children saw a formerly active church member who used to make them apple tarts lying on a bed, not aware of what was going on around her, those children began to cry and were broken hearted over her condition. I wish I had the compassion of a child. Our pride keeps us from having the heart of compassion that a child so easily posseses. Not only should we have compassion and be broken for dying saints, but for dying souls. If only our hearts were broken for souls dead in sin as those little hearts of those children broke for dying saints. As those children reached out to those people in the nursing home, we should reach out with humility and compassion to lost souls!