Every day little Jeffrey went by the bike store on
this way to school.
His routine was the same day after day. He would press his nose against the window,
and stare for long minutes at the shiney red bicycle just on the other side of the glass.
Then he would reach into his pocket, and count the jumble of coins and balled up
dollar bills his tiny hand had pulled out.
Then silently and slowly he finished his journey to school.
Jeffrey's parents could not afford the bicycle. They struggled just to put food on
the table and keep a roof over their and Jeffrey's heads.
They loved Jeffrey deeply, but knew they could not afford to give him the new bike he so
desired.
Jeffrey took the project on his own shoulders. He would search the neighborhood for
returnable bottles. He did any chore anyone asked him to. He begam
accumulating his pocket of change and bills. But every day, when he counted
his earnings...it seemed he was so far away from buying the bicycle.
Across the street from the bicycle store, Mr. Fred knew Jeffrey's rountime. It
was like clock work.
Mr. Fred and Miss Sarah never had children. And now, Mr. Fred did not even has Miss
Sarah. God had called his wife home 10 years ago.
Without Miss Sarah, Mr. Fred withdrew from the world. He stayed locked in his dark
house, lonely and alone. He looked at the world from behind drawn curtains.
He started looking forward to Jeffrey's routine. The young boy reminded Mr. Fred of
himself at that age.
One day Mr. Fred did something uncharacteristic. Mr. Fred left the confines of his
house and walked over to the bicycle store.
He looked closely at the red bicycle that Jeffrey peered through the window at daily.
He and the store owner had a quick conversation. Mr. Fred reached into his pocket.
Passed something on to the store owner, and then made his way back to his still
quiet house.
Little Jeffrey's routine continued. He would walk to school, peer through the
window, count the money in his pocket, frown a little and then continue on to school.
A week or so later, his routine was shattered.
As he approached the bicycle store, he saw police cars and ambulances across the street,
parked in front of the house where Mr. Fred lived. Some of the kids said he was a
hermit, others said he was just strange.
All the children were chattering about what happened as he moved further up the street.
They were saying that Mr. Fred had died and had been dead in that house for several
days before someone had found him. He did not have any family and nobody even missed
him since he was so reclusive.
Even all of the excitement could not keep Jeffrey from his routine. He went to the
bicycle store and pressed his nose against the plate glass window.
But his shiney red bicycle was not on the other side.
Dejectedly, he did not even put his hand in his pocket that day. Instead, he just
shuffled and kicked his way to school, avowing to stop at the bike store on the way home
to see what had happened to the bicycle he was saving so hard to buy.
School seemed to last forever that day but finally the closing bell rang.
Jeffrey ran down the street, straight as an arrow to the bike store.
He quickly pulled the door open, hurried to the counter, and drawing himself up to his
full heigth, placed his collection of money on the counter's surface and asked the store
owner, if he could have the shiney red bike on a payment plan.
But as he looked around better, he saw the bike was no where to be found.
"Where is the bike," Jeffrey asked.
The store owner smiled and said., "In the backroom. I was getting it
ready for its new owner."
Disappointment ran down Jeffrey's face, tears were about to follow. He tried to remain
strong. All of that saving and he still didn't have enough for the bike, and it
didn't matter anyway, someone else had bought it.
"Can I see it one last time," Jeffrey plaintively asked.
"See it, you can have it," The store owner told Jeffrey.
"But I still do not have enough money for that bike," Jeffrey stammered.
"You do not need any money," the store owner explained. "The price has been
paid."
Jeffrey did not know what to say or do. The store owner told him that Mr. Fred had
been watching him every day from his house across the street. Then one day he had
come over and had bought the bike for him. Mr. Fred said he always wanted a son like
Jeffrey, a young man who would work for what he wanted in the world. He wanted Jeffrey to
have the pride of earning the bike himself, but Mr. Fred said if anything ever happened to
him, to let Jeffrey know it was his bike. Mr. Fred also knew that sometimes, you
need a helping hand. That there are some things, regardless of how hard you
work, money can't buy.
The shiney new bike, with Jeffrey astride it, rolled out of the bicycle store that
afternoon.
He looked across the street at Mr. Fred's house. Things were quiet there now.
Even more quiet than usual he thought.
Then he peddled away, vowing never to forget Mr. Fred, a man he only really knew as a
flutter or movement in the curtains from across the street.
Mr. Fred paid the price for Jeffrey.
Jesus has paid the price for us.
We could work at salvation for our entire lives. All our good works can not buy it.
But by Jesus' grace and mercy we can receive the gift of salvation.
When Jesus was nailed to the cross for our sins and transgressions, He was looking at the
bill for our salvation. And as he gave up His life, He was telling us the price had been
paid.
Little Jeffrey lived to a ripe old age. He helped more than a few people himself along the
way. And one thing he never forgot was Mr. Fred and that shiney red bicycle.
He knew that there are occasions in life, when money can not buy what you really need.
But those are the times that we find, the price has been paid.
Do you know your price has been paid today?
All you have to do is name it and claim your reward.
Jesus has bought you shiney new eternal life with his blood flowing from Calvary's cross.
Repent in your heart and confess with your lips that Jesus Christ is Lord and it is yours
for the taking.
