The story is told of a certain minister who was disturbed to see a shabbily-dressed old man go into his church at noon every day and come out again after a few minutes. What could he be doing? He informed the caretaker and asked him to question the old man. After all, the place contained valuable furnishings.
“I go to pray,” the old man said in reply to the caretaker’s questioning.
“Come, come now,” said the other, “you are never long enough in the church to pray.”
“Well, you see,” the old man went on, “I don’t know how to pray a long prayer, but every day at twelve o’clock I just come and say, ‘Jesus, it’s Jim.’ I wait a minute and then come away. Even though it’s just a little prayer, I think He hears me.”
When Jim was injured some time later and taken to the hospital, he had a wonderful influence on the ward. Grumbling patients became cheerful, and often the ward would ring with laughter.
“Well, Jim,” said a nurse to him one day, “the men say you are responsible for this change in the ward. They say you are always happy.”
“That I am! I can’t help being happy. You see, it’s my visitor. Every day he makes me happy.”
“Your visitor?” The nurse was puzzled. She had noticed that Jim’s chair was always empty during visiting hours, for he had no relatives. “Your visitor? But when does he come?”
“Every day,” Jim replied, with a light in his eye. “Yes, every day at twelve o’clock He comes and stands at the foot of my bed. He smiles and says, ‘Jim, it’s Jesus.’”