Christ Knows How to Feel for Us

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Marjo sat on the upper stair listening. Every time a fresh wail reached her ears she groaned softly in loving sympathy. She had her little scalloped handkerchief squeezed together in one hand, and it was quite damp.
“Oh, dear me! I wish he’d been a good boy; then mamma wouldn’t have put him to bed, and he wouldn’t be feeling so dredf’ly,” Marjo murmured. “I wish he had been good. Poor Bobby! It hurts in my heart when he cries so.”
New reinforced wails drifted out to the stairway. They were growing more heart-rending all the time. Marjo’s little mouth corners dropped more and more, and the scalloped handkerchief got still damper.
“Marjorie! Marjorie! Why don’t you come down and play, dear?” mamma called.
“I guess I can’t, mamma; I feel so sorrowful for Bobby!” Marjo called back.
“You mustn’t feel too bad, dear. Bobby was naughty, and ought to cry.”
“Yes’m, I know it,” the sweet, shaky little voice called down to mamma; “but—but—you see, I have to feel bad. You can’t do it well’s I can, for I’ve been there and know how it feels.”
How much it meant that Christ came and tasted our human grief for 33 years, and was tempted in all points like as we are (Heb. 4:15), so that when we carry to Him our sorrows we know that He has a fellow-feeling for us.

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