“Little one, this blanket is for you. May it give you warmth when you are cold, comfort when you are sad, and love when you doubt your worth. Keep it safe and above all, keep it clean. You are receiving it whiter than snow...may it always be so.”

The newly born infant was swaddled in the shockingly white blanket and left to slumber.

As the child grew, the blanket was a constant companion. Eating breakfast? Blanket was on the child’s lap. Walking through the mud after a rain? Blanket came too, muddy and all.

True to the command, at the end of each day, the child would scrub away the accumulated filth, returning blanket to its pristine condition.

As life went on, the child grew to a teenager, and blanket continued to follow. The filth at the end of the day became harder to remove and required more hours of scrubbing.

It had not yet reached the point of no return, but the teenager could sense the inevitably.

Time, as it always does, moved relentlessly onward. Now, the once adorable infant was an adult. The blanket, which had once been used for pure purposes, had now been through some unsavory places.

The pristine white was now gray.

The adult knew the scrubbing was fruitless, that the gray would never be washed clean. Sobbing, the scrubbing continued until parts of the blanket began to fray.

Leaning back against the stone wall of the dank kitchen in defeat, the scrub brush clattered to the floor. All that could be heard were the sobs of despair. Of failure.

Suddenly, a shadow fell across the adult’s lap. Startled into silence, he looked up and saw an incredible sight: the figure was glowing slightly. And oh, what was that? The room was filled with the most amazing peace.

The figure spoke and said, “You have failed in your mission to keep the blanket pristine and white. But, the story does not have to end there. I can help. Follow me.”

The adult arose and, clutching the blanket, followed the mysterious figure. There was an inkling in the back of his mind that maybe the figure wasn’t so mysterious at all.

They journeyed on, and in the faint glow of the moon and stars, the adult realized there was a crown on the figure’s head.

What was a King doing caring about his blanket?

Onward they walked until it became clear they were headed to a castle. The night was too dark to see much, but it was clear the structure was vast.

How had he never known there was a King with a castle nearby?

The grand front doors swung open, and the adult realized they had stepped into the throne room.

The throne room? Weren’t prisoners and troublemakers the only ones summoned to such a place?

Rather than take his seat, the King quietly pulled the blanket from his grasp and walked over to a bucket. The King began wiping his hands over the blanket.

With horror, the adult looked on and realized the King was wiping his own blood on the blanket.

How on earth was that going to clean it?

Calmly, the King dipped the bloodstained blanket in the bucket of water and to the adult’s utter disbelief, the blanket came out sparkling white and clean. Whiter than snow.

He dropped to his knees with tears and shouts of delight. He was saved!

The King returned to the adult’s side and said, “You no longer need to be responsible for keeping the blanket clean. I can do that. Every day. Just come to me. Can you do that?”

“Yes, King. I do not deserve it, but I will come.”

Then the King spoke the familiar words: “Little one, this blanket is for you. May it give you warmth when you are cold, comfort when you are sad, and love when you doubt your worth. I am part of the blanket now and will always be faithful to clean it for you. Just come to me.”

Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;

wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

Psalm 51:7