The story is told of a rich lady, who was very unhappy. She said to her chauffeur one day, Jim I want you to take me for a drive this afternoon. I am simply bored with everything.
After a considerable amount of driving through the nice part of the city, Jim started driving through the slum section. The rich lady’s eyes fell upon the poor, ragged, and dirty children who lived in shacks and played in unpaved streets. As they drove slowly over the dusty and bumpy streets she heard someone singing and observed it was a man digging a ditch. Say Jim, she said, pull up and stop. I think I’d like to talk to that man.
She got out and picked her way through the weeds toward the digging man. As she approached, she heard something like this:
I’m a child of the King, a child of the King,
With Jesus my Savior I’m a child of the King.
Pardon me sir for interrupting but did you not say, you’re a child of the King?
The man looked up rather startled, being timid in the first place; He just stood and looked at her pleasantly as if to say, Yes, I am.
She continued, I don’t think I know your father or who He might be. Maybe you’ll tell me about Him and just who He is.
The man just smiled and bent back to his digging, singing--
My Father is rich in houses and land,
He holdeth the wealth of the world in His hands.
Of rubies and diamonds, of silver and gold,
His coffers are full He has riches untold. I’m a child--
Please excuse the interrupting again. I don’t understand how you can be a child of the King. It just doesn’t add up. A child of a King does not dig ditches and earn his living by the sweat of his brow. Please explain what this is all about.
He just smiled and bent back to his digging, singing
I once was an outcast, a stranger on earth.
A sinner by choice, an alien by birth.
But I’ve been adopted my name’s written down.
I’m an heir to a mansion a robe and a crown. I’m a child of the--
No! Please not again. You say you’re a child of the King. Here you are, sweaty, dirty, grimy, digging a ditch, trying to earn a little money. A child of the King! Hump! Listen man, you don’t have enough money to buy clothes for your wife and children, and to furnish them with a decent home. A child of the King!! Hump! By the way, where do you live?
He smiled and pointed toward a leaning shack, across the tracks on a little knoll above the creek. As she looked toward his house, He bent to his digging, singing--
A tent or a cottage why should I care?
They’re building a palace for me over there.
Though exiled from home, yet still I can sing,
All glory to God, I’m a child of the --
No, no, no! Not again! A child of the King, of all the crazy things. She hesitated, and then in disgust, yet with the expression of a disappointed longing, she looked at him and said,
I CAN’T SEE HOW A MAN WHO HAS SO LITTLE CAN ACT LIKE HE HAS SO MUCH.
She turned and walked briskly away toward the waiting limousine, got in and zoomed away, leaving behind a great cloud of dust.
The man leaned on his shovel and watched as she made her sudden departure. As the dust cleared away, He said with a feeling of deep, deep, sympathy,
I CAN’T SEE HOW A WOMAN CAN ACT LIKE SHE HAS SO MUCH, WHEN REALLY SHE HAS NOTHING.
Then smiling he went back to his digging, singing,
I’m a child of the King, a child of the King.
With Jesus my Savior, I’m a child of the King.
After a considerable amount of driving through the nice part of the city, Jim started driving through the slum section. The rich lady’s eyes fell upon the poor, ragged, and dirty children who lived in shacks and played in unpaved streets. As they drove slowly over the dusty and bumpy streets she heard someone singing and observed it was a man digging a ditch. Say Jim, she said, pull up and stop. I think I’d like to talk to that man.
She got out and picked her way through the weeds toward the digging man. As she approached, she heard something like this:
I’m a child of the King, a child of the King,
With Jesus my Savior I’m a child of the King.
Pardon me sir for interrupting but did you not say, you’re a child of the King?
The man looked up rather startled, being timid in the first place; He just stood and looked at her pleasantly as if to say, Yes, I am.
She continued, I don’t think I know your father or who He might be. Maybe you’ll tell me about Him and just who He is.
The man just smiled and bent back to his digging, singing--
My Father is rich in houses and land,
He holdeth the wealth of the world in His hands.
Of rubies and diamonds, of silver and gold,
His coffers are full He has riches untold. I’m a child--
Please excuse the interrupting again. I don’t understand how you can be a child of the King. It just doesn’t add up. A child of a King does not dig ditches and earn his living by the sweat of his brow. Please explain what this is all about.
He just smiled and bent back to his digging, singing
I once was an outcast, a stranger on earth.
A sinner by choice, an alien by birth.
But I’ve been adopted my name’s written down.
I’m an heir to a mansion a robe and a crown. I’m a child of the--
No! Please not again. You say you’re a child of the King. Here you are, sweaty, dirty, grimy, digging a ditch, trying to earn a little money. A child of the King! Hump! Listen man, you don’t have enough money to buy clothes for your wife and children, and to furnish them with a decent home. A child of the King!! Hump! By the way, where do you live?
He smiled and pointed toward a leaning shack, across the tracks on a little knoll above the creek. As she looked toward his house, He bent to his digging, singing--
A tent or a cottage why should I care?
They’re building a palace for me over there.
Though exiled from home, yet still I can sing,
All glory to God, I’m a child of the --
No, no, no! Not again! A child of the King, of all the crazy things. She hesitated, and then in disgust, yet with the expression of a disappointed longing, she looked at him and said,
I CAN’T SEE HOW A MAN WHO HAS SO LITTLE CAN ACT LIKE HE HAS SO MUCH.
She turned and walked briskly away toward the waiting limousine, got in and zoomed away, leaving behind a great cloud of dust.
The man leaned on his shovel and watched as she made her sudden departure. As the dust cleared away, He said with a feeling of deep, deep, sympathy,
I CAN’T SEE HOW A WOMAN CAN ACT LIKE SHE HAS SO MUCH, WHEN REALLY SHE HAS NOTHING.
Then smiling he went back to his digging, singing,
I’m a child of the King, a child of the King.
With Jesus my Savior, I’m a child of the King.
