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The little girl knelt beside her bed. Her shoulders shook with her sobs.
She had been so excited for this party. She’d invited every girl in her class. Why, God? Why hadn’t anyone come? Why didn’t anyone like her?
Then her mother had hollered at her for letting her spend so much money on a party that no one was going to come to. The little girl had never been so sad. She’d never felt so alone. “Why, God?” she said aloud. “Why am I like this?”
She tried to start her normal bedtime prayers, but she couldn’t. All she could say was, “Why?”
Suddenly, someone was kneeling beside her. She knew that if she opened her eyes, she wouldn’t be able to see him—but he was there.
She knew that it was Jesus.
His arm slid around her and pulled her toward him. She leaned her wet face into his chest and sobbed. And he held her there.
Her crying gradually slowed, and she grew sleepy.
She’d had a horrible birthday. No one had come to her party. Her mother had been embarrassed and had taken it out on her.
But she was still loved.
She still belonged to Jesus.
