Jesus in my wallet

A ticket collector found an old wallet in the overcrowded train compartment.   All it contained was a little money and a picture of Jesus Christ.  


He held it up and asked, 'Who does this wallet belong to?'

An old man claimed it was his.  The ticket collector demanded proof.  
The old man smiled and said, 'It has a picture of Jesus Christ in it.' 
The ticket collector was not satisfied. He demanded  to know why there was a picture of Jesus Christ in his wallet and not of the old man.




The old man patiently began to explain,  'While in school I received pocket money from my father, who gave me this wallet to keep my money. I loved my parents and therefore kept a picture of them in it.

As a teenager I was quite handsome and vain, so I replaced my parent's picture with my own. 


Some years later, I fell in love and got married. After marriage I placed my wife's picture instead of my own in the wallet.

Soon thereafter I fathered a beautiful son, thereafter his picture occupied the prized position in my wallet.'


Glassy eyed, the old man continued.. 'My parents and my wife passed away many years ago.  My son is preoccupied with his family and work,  to bother about me. 


All those I ran after, have become more distant from me. The only one who never left me was my Lord. I then realized that only God is my eternal companion and I am never lonely now. That's why I have this picture of Jesus Christ in my wallet.

The humbled collector returned the wallet with a sheepish smile.  At the next station the ticket collector went to the bookseller and asked for a picture of His Lord to place in  his wallet.


Overflowing with joy and excitement with his recent awakening, the ticket collector tried to enthuse the bookseller. It was a futile attempt for the disinterested seller was at exactly the same state of mind and heart as had been the collector an hour earlier.


The collector softly said, 'Lord, you are so near, and yet so far  for those who unfortunately do not seek you. Thank you, for sending the old man into my life.' 




I am grateful to my friend Harry Daswani in China, for the essence of this message.