Many years ago in the old city of Düsseldorf, there lived an artist by the name of Stenburg. He had been engaged to paint a picture of the Crucifixion, and this he was doing — not from any real love of Christ or faith in Him, but for money and fame.

One beautiful morning Stenburg was walking in the forest near his home when he came upon a gypsy girl plaiting straw baskets. Stenburg was so impressed by her beauty, he determined to engage her as a model for a picture of a Spanish dancing girl. So he bargained with Pepita to come to his studio three times a week to pose for him. At the appointed hour she arrived, and as her big eyes roved around the studio she was full of wonder at the sight of the pictures. The large one "The Crucifixion" caught her eye as she asked in an awed voice, "Who is that?" and "What is being done to Him?"

"They are crucifying Him."

"Who are those about Him with the bad faces?"

"Now, look here," said the artist, "I cannot talk. You have nothing to do but stand as I tell you." The girl dared not speak again, but she continued to gaze and wonder. Every time she came to the studio the fascination of the picture grew upon her. Then again she ventured to ask a question, for she longed to learn more of its meaning.

"Why did they crucify Him? Was He bad, very bad?"

"No, very good."

That was all she learned on this occasion, but it added a little to her knowledge of that wonderful scene.

At last, seeing she was so curious to know the meaning of the picture, Stenburg one day said: "Listen, I will tell you once for all; and then ask no more questions." He told her the story of the Cross — a story which was new to Pepita, though so old to the artist that it had ceased to touch him. He could paint that dying agony and not a nerve of his would quiver while the thought of it crushed Pepita's heart. Tears filled her eyes and she could hardly control her emotion.

On Pepita's last visit to the studio she stood before the great picture, loath to leave it.

"Come," said the artist, "here is your money, and a gold piece over."

"Thanks, master." Then, again turning to the picture, she said: "You must love Him very much when He has done all that for you; do you not?"

Stenburg could not answer. Pepita with a sad heart went back to her people. But her words pierced Stenburg like an arrow. God's Spirit sent the gypsy girl's words home to his heart. He could not forget them. "All that for you" kept ringing in his ears. He became restless and sad. He knew he did not love the crucified One.

Some time after this Stenburg was made to realise why Christ hung upon the Cross for sinners; that he was a sinner, and therefore Christ died in his place, bearing his sins. Thus God led the artist to the knowledge of salvation and taught him to say: "He loved me, and gave Himself for me."

And now he longed to make that wondrous love known to others, but how could he do it? Suddenly it flashed upon him. He could paint. His brush could portray the love of Christ and so he painted as never before. The picture was placed among other paintings in the famous gallery of Düsseldorf. Underneath he placed the words: "All this I did for thee; what hast thou done for Me?"

One day Stenburg saw Pepita weeping bitterly as she stood by the picture.

"Oh master! If He had but loved me so!" she cried. The artist told her how He did die for her, as much as for the rich and great. Stenburg did not weary now of answering all her questions. He was anxious to tell, as she was to hear, of the love of Christ, and as the truth was presented to her she received it, and went from that room a sinner saved, rejoicing in that wonderful love. (see Matthew 27 v.27-54)