Children’s Story

Children’s Story – The Choice

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“Oh, Mom! Do we really have to go?” Jason mumbled.

Joe chimed in hopefully: “We could just keep the Sabbath at home today.” But Mother and Dad were firm. It was the Sabbath, and it was time to keep their appointment with God.

Jason and Joe had grumbled their way through breakfast, grumbled their way through worship and grumbled their way to church.

After a few of the usual hymns had been sung, the pastor walked over to the pulpit and gave a very brief introduction of the guest speaker. He was an old friend of the pastor, and he was old! Jason and Joe crossed their arms and sighed loudly as they slumped back in their seats. Another boring sermon, they thought.

“A father, his son, David, and David’s friend, John, were sailing off the Pacific Coast,” the old man began, “when a fast approaching storm blocked any attempt to get back to shore. The waves were so high, that even though the father was a good sailor, he could not keep the boat upright, and all three were swept into the ocean.”

The old man hesitated for a moment, making eye contact with the two rebellious teenagers, Jason and Joe. They were, for the first time since the service began, beginning to look somewhat interested in his story.

“Grabbing a rescue line,” he continued, “the father had to make the hardest decision of his entire life, . . .to which boy would he throw the other end of the line? He had only a few seconds to make his decision, for the waves were pushing them all farther apart. He knew that his son, David, was a fine Christian boy, and he also knew that David’s friend, John, was not. The agony of his decision could not be matched by the torrent of waves.”

“‘I love you David! I love you, Son,’ the father called out over the stormy waves. Then he turned and threw the line to John.

By the time he had pulled John back to the capsized boat, David had disappeared beyond the raging swells of the black night. His body was never found.

By this time, Jason and Joe were sitting straighter in the pew, waiting for the next words to come out of the old man’s mouth.

He continued. “The father knew that his son would be resurrected to spend eternity with Jesus, and he could not bear the thought of David not finding his best friend, John, there to greet him on the resurrection morning. He could not bear the thought that these two boys who loved each other so much would not be in heaven, together. So, he sacrificed his son that John might have an opportunity to learn about God and how God’s love is so great that He made that exact same sacrifice for us.”

With that the old man turned and sat down in his chair. Stunned silence filled the room. Within minutes after the service ended, Jason and Joe were at the old man’s side.

“That was quite a story,” Jason politely started to say, “but I don’t think it was very realistic. It’s a little far-fetched to think that a father would give up his own son’s life just in the hope that the other boy would become a Christian.”

“Well, you may be right,” the old man replied, glancing down at his worn Bible. A big smile broadened his narrow face, and he once again looked up at the boys. “It sure isn’t a very realistic story, is it? But I am standing here today, and I can tell you THAT story gives me a glimpse of what it must have been like for God to give up His Son for me. I understand how it works. You see, I was David’s friend. My name is John.

Children’s Story – Jim’s Big Decision

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“Remember,” Mrs. Allen told all the boys and girls in the seventh grade, “one week from today we are going to have our final test in American history. The questions will cover everything we’ve been studying during the last three months, so you’ll have to study hard.”

All the seventh graders groaned out loud as they gathered up their books and papers and got ready to go home.

Jim climbed on the school bus and took a seat. He was thinking about the history test and how much studying he was going to have to do if he wanted to get a good grade. He was thinking so hard about the test he hardly noticed when Eric sat down beside him. “What’s the matter?” Eric asked looking at Jim. “Are you sick or something?”

“No. I’m thinking about that history test next week. We’re going to have to spend a lot of time studying.”

“Not me,” Eric said. “I’m going down to the skateboard park and practice every night this week. I don’t have to study for that old test.”

“Why not?” Jim wanted to know.

“Because I already know all the questions that will be on it,” Eric told him. “Several of the kids in class have them. You just have to be sure you know the answers to those questions, and you’ll do fine. You don’t have to spend all week studying.”

“How do you know the questions?” Jim asked.

Eric looked around carefully and lowered his voice. “George found a copy of the test in the wastebasket last week when he was helping the janitor take out the trash. I guess Mrs. Allen had forgotten to shred it before she threw it away. George managed to slip it out of the wastebasket and put it under his coat without the janitor seeing him. He’s selling copies for five dollars. He’ll sell you one if you want it. He’s keeping it a secret from most of the kids in the class since he doesn’t want word to get out. But he would sell you a copy, I’m sure. It’s good money for George, and several of us will get a good grade without having to study.”

Jim didn’t know what to think. He knew what George was doing was wrong. And he knew that to buy a copy of the test would be cheating. But he also knew that he was going to have to spend several hours every night studying to have any chance at all of doing well on the test. And he knew that the test counted a lot toward his final grade in the class. He was tempted to give George five dollars and not have to study.

For a while, a battle was going on in his mind. What should he do? The bus was almost at his stop. Eric was looking at him; he had to make a decision. Should he cheat or should he spend all week studying? The bus was slowing down, and the driver was turning on the flashing red lights. Eric waited for Jim’s answer.

“No, Eric,” Jim said as the bus stopped. “I don’t want a copy of the test. That wouldn’t be fair. I want to take the test honestly and do well because I’ve studied—not because I’ve cheated.”

Eric shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said.

All that week, Jim studied hard, reviewing what he had learned in class over the last few months. He went over all his notes and tried his best to remember the important points that Mrs. Allen had stressed in class. It seemed like the longest week in his life.

Finally, the morning came. Test day! Jim wasn’t sure how well he would do on the test, but he knew he had studied hard and was as prepared as he would ever be. And he knew that no matter what happened, he had done the right thing. His conscience was clear.

As Jim walked into the classroom, Eric looked at him carefully. So did George. So did three or four other students. They all knew that Jim knew they had the questions already. “You should have bought the questions,” Eric whispered. “You didn’t have to spend all that time studying, you know!”

Jim didn’t say anything. He looked around. Mrs. Allen wasn’t in the room yet. The kids in the classroom were talking and putting their things away. It was time for class to begin, and still Mrs. Allen hadn’t arrived. “Where is Mrs. Allen?” everyone began asking. “Why isn’t she here? What’s wrong?”

Just then the door opened, and the school principal entered the room, followed by Mrs. Allen. The principal wasn’t smiling; neither was Mrs. Allen. Instead, they had serious expressions on their faces. The students quit talking and turned their attention to the front of the classroom. When everything was quiet, the principal said, “Yesterday, your teacher learned that some students had managed to get a copy of today’s history test. We aren’t sure yet just how this happened, but we’re investigating. Meanwhile, Mrs. Allen has stayed up all night preparing a new test with all new questions. It wasn’t easy for her to do so, but she’s ready now.”

The principal turned and walked out the door, and Mrs. Allen began passing out the test—a completely new test with all new questions.

Some of the students looked puzzled. A few of the students looked sick. But there was joy in Jim’s heart. He was happy that he had made the decision to be honest.

Jim picked up the test and began to read the questions. He had studied hard, and he knew he was going to do well.

Storytime, Character-building Stories for Children, ©2008, 74–77.

Young people, each one of us is taking a test—our final test. If we don’t pass this test there will be no second chance to take it again. Are we studying as if our eternal life depended on it? or are we listening to the devil who tells us we don’t need to study and prepare—we can cheat through this life and still win the prize of heaven?

“You are now in probationary [final test] time, and a second probation will not come to any of you. This is the only opportunity you will have of standing the test and proving of God.” Fundamentals of Christian Education, 245.

Children’s Story – The Boy With The Shining Face

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In the Far West is an Indian village. Rising out of the desert and towering over the village is a high mountain. Only the very strong can climb it, so all the boys of the village were eager to try.

One day the chief said, “Now, boys, today you may try to climb the mountain. Each of you go as far as you can. When you are too tired to go on, come back. But I want each of you to bring me a twig from the place where you turned back.”

Very soon a boy came puffing back. In his hand he held out to the chief a cactus leaf. The chief smiled. “My boy, you did not even reach the foot of the mountain. Cactus is a desert flower.”

Later a second boy returned. He carried a twig of sagebrush. “Well,” said the chief, “at least you reached the foot of the mountain.”

The next boy to come back had in his hand a cottonwood twig. “Good,” said the chief. “You climbed as far as the springs.”

Another boy came back with some buckthorn. “You, my boy, were really climbing. You were up to the first slide rock.”

An hour afterward, one boy came back with a branch of pine. To him the chief said, “Good! You made three-quarters of the climb.”

The sun was low in the sky when the last boy returned. His hands were empty, but his face was shining. He said, “Father, there were no trees where I was. I saw no twigs, but I saw a shining sea.”

Now the old chief’s face glowed too. “I knew it! When I looked at your face, I knew it. You have been to the top. You needed no twig to tell me. It is written in your eyes. You alone, my boy, have seen the glory and the peace of the mountain.”

You know, the very same thing happens to you and to me when we have been with our Father in heaven and have talked to Him in prayer and felt His presence in our hearts. It shows on our faces. It shines in our eyes. We don’t have to tell anyone. Other people will see it and know and be glad.

Children’s Story – Taking Aim

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Sally’s teacher was well known for his elaborate object lessons. An object lesson is one that teaches you something special.

One particular day, Sally walked into class and gasped. She knew that they were in for a fun day, for hanging on the wall, behind the teacher’s desk, was a big red and white target. Beside it on a small table were many darts. The students were very curious and whispered and talked among themselves, wondering why the target was on the wall.

After calling the class to order, Dr. Smith told the students to draw a picture of someone they disliked or someone who had made them angry. After the pictures were drawn, he said, he would allow the students to throw darts at the person’s picture.

The class laughed in anticipation. Sally’s girlfriend drew a picture of a girl who had stolen something from her. Another friend drew a picture of his little brother. Sally drew a picture of a former friend. She put a great deal of detail into her drawing, even drawing pimples on the girl’s face. Sally was pleased at the overall effect she had achieved.

The class lined up, and as each student approached the front of the line, he presented his picture to Dr. Smith, who promptly pinned it to the dart board. Then the fun began. With much laughter and hilarity, the students whipped their darts toward their picture. Some of the students threw with such force that their target was ripping apart, while the other students clapped and cheered them on.

Sally was really getting into the spirit of this game and could hardly wait for her turn. Imagine her disappointment when Dr. Smith, because of time limits, asked the students to return to their seats, and Sally had not had a chance to throw her darts. She sat thinking about how unfair it was that she did not have a chance to throw any darts at her target. Sally was trying to deal with her disappointment as Dr. Smith walked over and began removing the target from the wall. The students all gasped loudly, as the target came down, revealing a picture of Jesus. . . .

A complete hush fell over the room as each student viewed the mangled face of Jesus; holes and jagged marks covered His face, and both of His eyes were pierced.

Then Dr. Smith turned to the class and spoke these words, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me.” Matthew 25:40.

No other words were necessary; the tear-filled eyes of each student focused only on the picture of Christ. They could not take their eyes from His face. His eyes seemed to look directly into their own, guilt-ridden, eyes.

“And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you di it to Me.’” Ibid. (NKJV)

Children’s Story – The Latchkey Was Out

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Long ago doors were fastened with a heavy wooden latch. The door could be opened from the outside by a thong made of deerskin. When this latch was pulled inside, no one could open the door. So friendly people used to say, “Come and see me soon. The latchstring is out.” That meant that guests were welcome.

Once, when the city of Cincinnati, Ohio was just a frontier fort, the Indians went on the warpath. Most of the settlers grew frightened, left their homes and rushed inside the fort for safety.

But there was one family that stayed on in its log cabin outside of the fort. They had come from William Penn’s colony in Pennsylvania and were called Friends or Quakers. William Penn had taught them that when the Indians were treated kindly, as God wants all men and women to be treated, they would be peaceful and friendly. Penn had proved that this was right, for in Pennsylvania there were no Indian wars.

So the family in the cabin decided to try Penn’s way. They did not even have any guns ready.

One night the man grew a bit frightened and put the latchstring on the inside. He and his wife could not go to sleep. Finally she said, “John, that latchstring on the inside makes me feel uneasy.”

“I feel that way too, Mary,” he replied. So he got up and put the latchstring outside again.

Before long they heard Indians coming. Soon they surrounded the little cabin with wild cries and war whoops. They tried the door and saw that it would open, but they did not come in. Then, after a while, they grew quiet and began to steal away. Mary and John crept on hands and knees to a window and watched them.

On the edge of the forest the Indians sat down in a circle. They seemed to be holding a council to talk things over.

“What do you suppose they’re going to do?” Mary whispered.

“Sh-h-h,” said John. “Remember God has promised us, ‘I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.’”

Soon they saw a tall chieftain in war paint leave the circle. Slowly he walked back to the cabin alone. In his right hand he carried a long white feather. He fastened the feather to the top of the cabin door. Then all the Indians left.

There the white feather stayed for a long time. The hot summer sun shone on it. It swayed in the winter winds that swept the prairie. John and Mary never took it down, for a friendly Indian told them, “The white feather means: ‘This is the home of a man of peace. Do not harm him.’”

All of this happened long ago, but God has not changed. He still wants us to be kind and fair to all men and then trust Him to take care of us.

Children’s Story – God Made Many Wonders

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Linda found a crab crawling along the beach.

“Oh, look at this funny crab,” she said. “See, he is crawling sideways.”

“That is the way crabs travel,” said Daddy. “It’s a wonder they ever get anywhere.”

“Where did he come from?,” asked John.

“From the ocean,” Daddy told him. “There are many crabs in the ocean. See his little shell house? When it is too small for him, he will shed it and have another just the right size for him.”

“How can he do it?” Linda wondered.

“I don’t know, Linda. He is one of God’s wonders. The earth and sea are full of wonders.”

“Tell us about them—all of them,” said John.

“Oh, I couldn’t tell you about all of them,” laughed Daddy; “there are too many. But I can tell you about
a few.

“In the ocean are many little creatures, like the crab, who live in shell homes just right for them. There are many kinds of fish too, and one that carries a light to show him the way through the darkness!

“There are many wonders all around us, too, like the little creatures that look like the things around them. The garden toad wears a funny wrinkled coat to look like the brown earth. The walking stick looks like a twig, and a dead-leaf moth looks like a dead leaf on the bush where he is resting.”

“Tell us more,” said Linda.

“We must start for home,” said Mother, “but I think it’s a good thing to think about some of God’s wonders. It helps us to know how great and wonderful God is, and to know that He will care for us.”

The day was almost over. The sun had slipped behind the hills and now the sky was growing darker. The baby robins had settled down in their nest beneath mother’s wings. Father robin had just begun his evening song.

“Look at the evening star,” said Mother; “isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yes,” said John, “It’s the first star in the sky tonight.”

“Sometimes I wonder which is more beautiful, the blue sky of the daytime, or the starry sky at night,” said Mother.

“I like the blue sky the best,” said John, “when the big white clouds are sailing along.”

“Think of all the beautiful things in the world,” said Mother. “Let’s name a few of them.”

“I like tall mountains, covered with snow,” said John.

“I like sunsets and rainbows,” said Mother, “and the moon and stars. I like trees with branches waving in the air.”

“I like oceans and rivers and lakes,” said Linda.

“Little things are beautiful, too,” said Mother; “rose petals, butterflies, and birds. Sometimes I think the little things are the most beautiful of all.”

“I see something beautiful right now,” said John, with a big yawn, “and it’s little. It’s a lightning bug just turning on his light.”

“God has made a beautiful world for us to enjoy.”

God “doeth great things . . . and wonders without number.” Job 9:10.

Children’s Story – The Kitten

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The pastor had a kitten. This darling little bundle of fur had climbed up a tree in the pastor’s back yard and then was afraid to come down, crying piteously as it clung to a limb.

“Here, kitty, kitty!” the pastor softly coaxed, as he stretched to reach the trembling little kitten. She would not budge. He tried bringing out a warm saucer of milk to tempt her out of her fear. Still the kitty could not come down.

Since the tree was not sturdy enough for the pastor to climb, he decided that if he tied one end of a rope to his car and one end to the tree, he could drive the car away just enough to bend the tree down to where he could reach the kitty. So that is what he did.

Checking his progress frequently, the pastor decided that just a few more inches would bend the tree low enough that he could reach up and rescue the kitty. But as he moved a little further forward, the rope broke. The tree went “boing!!” as it snapped back to its original upright position, and the kitten instantly sailed through the air and out of sight.

The pastor felt terrible. He walked all over the neighborhood asking people if they had seen a little kitten. No, no one had. So he prayed, “Lord, I just commit this kitten to your keeping.” That was all he could do. He went home and went on about his work.

A few days later he met one of his church members in the grocery store. As they chatted, he happened to glance into her shopping cart and was amazed to see cat food. He knew this woman hated cats of any kind; everyone knew it! He just had to ask, “Why are you buying cat food when you hate cats so much?”

“You won’t believe this,” she replied. “My little girl has been begging and begging me to buy her a kitten. Of course, I would not do it because I do not like cats. A few days ago, she began begging again, so I finally told her, ‘If God gives you a cat, I’ll let you keep it.’ I watched my little girl go out in the yard, get down on her knees, and ask God for a cat. Pastor, I know you won’t believe this, but I saw it with my very own eyes! A kitten suddenly came flying out of the blue sky, with its paws outspread, and landed right in front of her! What could I do, but let her keep the cat?”

Never underestimate the prayer of faith!

Children’s Story – Don’t You Go to Church?

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A little girl, when her father was sick, went to the post office and said in a sweet, childish voice, “Please give me my father’s letters.”

“Who is your father?” inquired the post office clerk.

“Don’t you know my father?” she asked in astonishment.

“Of course I don’t,” he answered, “Why should I?”

“Everybody knows my father,” she said.

“Well, there is certainly one person who does not,” he replied.

“Don’t you ever go to church?” she asked.

“No, I don’t go to church.” he said.

“What! You never go to meetings? That is why you don’t know my father. He is the minister.”

“If you tell me his name, I will see if there are any letters for him.”

She did so, and when he told her there were none, she said, “Did you say you never go to meetings?”

“That is what I said,” he answered, turning away. He had become worse than careless about these things. The child walked away, looking sad.

Next day she came bouncing into the post office again. Again, the clerk told her there were no letters yet, and turned away. But she was not to be changed in her purpose, and said, “You never saw my father did you?”

“Not to know him,” he replied.

“Everybody likes him that knows him, and they say he is such a nice preacher.”

The man laughed and said that he had no doubt about that.

“You would like to hear my father. Everybody does.”

The statement came too close for him, and he turned away.

The next day the post office clerk offered the little girl a letter addressed to her father, saying, “It has come at last.”

“He will be glad to have it,” she said, thanking the clerk. Then with earnestness she continued, “I wish you knew my father; you would like him, too.”

“I have no doubt I would, if he is anything like his daughter.”

“I wish you would come to church next weekend and hear him preach. I know you would be pleased.”

“I don’t know anyone there. I would feel like a stranger.”

“You’ll know me, and I shall be happy to see you. You can come to the row where mother and I have our seats.”

He objected again and again, but she persisted in her childish way until he promised to go. He did not look entirely pleased, but she ran off pleased enough for both of them.

Sabbath morning she anxiously looked out of her window to see if the day would be sunny. She was early in her seat that day and turned eagerly towards the door several times. At last she beckoned with her little hand. The tall post office clerk came forward and took a vacant seat by the child. She nestled up to his side and placed her little hand in his.

She thought her father never preached better; God certainly helped him that morning. She looked up into the gentleman’s face and saw tears starting from his eyes, and she pressed his hand tightly in hers. When the sermon was finished, he hurried out of the church after thanking her for saving him a seat.

The next week, however, he came to see her father and had a long talk with him. After he had gone, the minister told her that the post office clerk wanted to join the church.

“You have brought a lost soul to Jesus,” her father said.

And the post office clerk had now found rest and peace in his life, because a little child cared.

Children’s Story – Pinewood Derby

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My eight year old son, Gilbert, had been in Cub Scouts only a short time. During one of his meetings, he was handed a sheet of paper, a block of wood and four tires, and told to return home and give all of these things to “Dad.”

That was not an easy task for Gilbert, as his dad was not receptive to doing things with his son. But Gilbert tried. Dad read the paper and scoffed at the idea of making a pinewood derby car with his young, eager son. The block of wood remained untouched as the weeks passed.

Finally, I stepped in to see if I could figure this all out. The project began. Having no carpentry skills, I decided it would be best if I simply read the directions and let Gilbert do the work. And he did. I read aloud the measurements, the rules of what we could and could not do, and Gilbert applied himself to the task.

Within days his block of wood was turning into a pinewood derby car. It was a little lopsided, but looking great, at least through the eyes of Mom. Gilbert had not seen any of the other children’s cars and was feeling pretty proud of his “Blue Lightning,” the pride that comes with knowing that you did something on your own.

Then the big night came. With his blue car clutched in his hand, and pride in his heart, we headed to the big race. Once there, my little one’s pride turned to humility. Gilbert’s car was obviously the only car made entirely on his own. All the other cars were a father-son partnership, with cool paint jobs and sleek body styles made for speed.

A few of the boys giggled as they looked at Gilbert’s lopsided, wobbly, unattractive vehicle. To add to the humility, Gilbert was the only boy without a man at his side. A couple of the boys who were from single parent homes at least had an uncle or grandfather with them. Gilbert had only his mom.

The race was done in elimination fashion. Each child kept racing their car as long as they were the winner. One by one the cars raced down the smoothly sanded ramp. Finally, all had been eliminated except Gilbert’s little car and the sleekest, fastest-looking car there.

As the last race was about to begin, my wide-eyed, shy eight-year-old, asked if they could stop the race for a minute, because he wanted to pray. The race stopped. Gilbert went to his knees, clutching his funny-looking block of wood between his hands. With a wrinkled brow he set to converse with his Father. He prayed in earnest for a very long minute and a half. Then he stood, smile on his face, and announced, “Okay, I am ready.”

As the crowd cheered, a boy named Tommy stood with his father as their car sped down the ramp. Gilbert stood with his Father within his heart, and watched his little block of wood wobble down the ramp with surprisingly great speed, rushing over the finish line a fraction of a second before Tommy’s car.

Gilbert leaped into the air with a loud shout, “Thank You!” as the crowd roared in approval. The Scout Master came up to Gilbert, microphone in hand, and asked the obvious question, “So you prayed to win, huh, Gilbert?”

To which my young son replied, “Oh, no sir! That wouldn’t be fair to ask God to help you beat someone else. I just asked Him to make it so I wouldn’t cry when I lost.”

Children seem to have a wisdom far beyond us. Gilbert did not ask God to win the race; he did not ask God to fix the outcome. He simply asked God to give him strength in the outcome. When Gilbert first saw the other cars, he did not cry out to God, “No fair! They had a father’s help!” No, he went to his Father for strength.

Perhaps we spend too much of our prayer time asking God to rig the race, to make us number one, or too much time asking God to remove us from the struggle, when we should be seeking God’s strength to get through the struggle. “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” Philippians 4:13.

Gilbert’s simple prayer spoke volumes to those present that night. He never doubted that God would indeed answer his request. He did not pray to win, thus hurt somebody else; he prayed that God would supply the grace to lose with dignity. Gilbert, by stopping the race to speak to his Father, also showed the crowd that he was not there without a “dad” but that his Father was most definitely there with him.

Yes, Gilbert walked away a winner that night, with his Father at his side. May we all learn to pray as he did.

Children’s Story – Rescue at Night, Part I

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Joan sat at the dining-room table, busy with her homework. Her older brother, Bill, was reading a book in the living room. Four little brothers and sisters were already sound asleep in the large bedroom at the back of the Joan sat at the dining-room table, busy with her homework. Her older brother, Bill, was reading a book in the living room. Four little brothers and sisters were already sound asleep in the large bedroom at the back of the house. The whole house was still and quiet.

Presently Joan finished studying and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms and yawning widely. She then gathered her work together neatly and stacked her notebook and schoolbooks, ready to take to school the next morning. She got up from the table then shivered and pulled her sweater closer about her shoulders.

“Br-r-r! I’m cold!” Joan said in a loud whisper to Bill.

“I am too,” Bill replied, looking up from his book. “Dad’s been having trouble with that old furnace in the basement. It doesn’t heat right. He said he’ll have it fixed as soon as we have the money.

“Hope that’s soon,” Joan said, buttoning her sweater. “This old house always seems cold.” She walked to the window and looked out. “Wonder when Mother and Dad will come back from Aunt Jane’s?”

“It should be soon; they never stay late,” Bill answered. Then he sniffed the air and exclaimed, “I smell smoke!”

Joan stepped back from the window and sniffed too. “So do I!” she cried.

“Must be from the furnace in the basement,” Bill said. “I’ll go and check it.” He got up and went quickly down the center hall, where a door opened into steps leading to the basement. As he flung open the door, he looked down into the dark basement. At once strong smoke swept up the stairway and set him to coughing. He slammed the door shut quickly and ran back to Joan.

“The furnace must have started a fire in the basement,” Bill said, trying to keep calm. “Get the little ones out of bed while I call the fire department.”

Joan ran to the back bedroom where their brothers and sisters were sleeping. As she tried to waken them, she could hear Bill’s voice on the telephone, calling the fire department.

Strange crackling sounds could be heard from the basement now, and hot smoke was drifting through all the house. Little tongues of flame were licking up into some of the floor vents.

Joan wakened the sleepy children, who sat up in bed, rubbing their eyes and wondering what the excitement was all about. Trying not to frighten them, Joan finally got all four out of bed and hurried them into the center hall. Bill met her, and they tried to get to the back door, but there was fire in the kitchen. The front of the house was filled with heavy smoke.

“We must get the children back into the bedroom,” Bill shouted above the crackling noise of the fire, as he helped Joan. Then he said quickly, “You run out the front way and get under the bedroom window. I’ll hand the little ones out to you!””

Joan started, then stopped and shouted. “The window’s too high! I can’t reach it from the ground!”

“All right, I’ll go, and I’ll help you out too!” Then he disappeared through the heavy smoke toward the front door.

To be continued…