It is about a little Jewish boy who was living in a small Polish village when
Nazi troops rounded up him and all the other Jews in the vicinity and
sentenced them to death.
The boy joined his neighbours in digging a shallow ditch for their own graves.
Then the soldiers lined them up against a wall and machine gunned them down.
But none of the bullets hit the little boy. The blood of his parents splattered his
naked body, and as he fell into the ditch he pretended to be dead.
The grave was so shallow that the thin covering of dirt did not prevent him from
breathing.
Several hours later, when darkness fell, this ten year old boy crawled out of his
grave. With blood and dirt caked to his little body, he made his way to the
nearest home and begged for help.
A woman answered the door and immediately recognised him as one of the Jewish
boys marked for death by the Nazis, so she screamed at him to go away and
slammed the door.
Dirty, bloody and shivering, this little boy limped his way from one house to the next
begging for help. But he always got the same response. People were afraid to help.
Finally, in desperation, he knocked on a door, and just before the lady of the house
could tell him to leave, he cried out,
The lady froze in her tracks for what seemed an eternity to the little boy.
Then with tears streaming down her face, she threw open her arms. She picked
up the boy and took him inside to safety.
That is Christian love in action, and it illustrates the risk that love sometimes demands.