Children’s Story

Children’s Story – Lost But Not Forgotten

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It was the end of May. Ruth and Lenny were enjoying the bright, summer day, when Dad and Mom said, “Time to go and bring up the cows.”

The cows were out somewhere in the 60-plus wooded acres, and it was getting late in the day. It was time for them to be herded into the barn for milking.

Ruthie was in her early teens and her sister, Lenny, was six years younger. They had done this task before. It was a routine job, but Dad and Mom had warned them never to go through the fence, and if they ever got lost, they were to follow the fence line.

So today they started on their way, searching for a newly trodden cow path. Just a few steps ahead was Skipper, the family farm dog. This was his daily chore also. Soon they found some cow tracks. Ruthie called, “Come boss, come boss,” and listened for the sound of clanging bells. The cows wore collars with bells, so when they walked or ate, the bells would clang and alert their owners of where they were. The girls did not hear any bells.

Then it was Lenny’s turn. “Come boss, come boss,” she called. Still no bells. They decided the cows must be a long ways into the woods. They would just have to keep walking.

Along the path, the girls spotted some May flowers. “Oh,” exclaimed Lenny, “wouldn’t they be nice to take home to Mom to put on the table?” Ruthie agreed, so they started picking the wildflowers. There were nice little sprigs here and there. But while the flowers God had created were ever so pretty, the temptation of picking them had taken the girls off the narrow path of safety they had been following. Soon Ruthie decided they did not know for sure where they were. They were lost!

They continued walking, but they were growing weary, and the sun was getting lower in the western sky. Soon they came to a big swamp. Ruthie knew it was in the northwest corner of the pasture. They had to go in the opposite direction. They started out on a path while trying to keep the fence line in view and still avoiding the boggy swamp, but soon they were right back at the same spot of the swamp from which they had left. Lenny was getting scared, and Ruthie was becoming desperate. Silently Ruthie breathed a prayer to God Who cares for His children and always hears their pleas of distress.

Suddenly a thought came to Ruthie’s mind. She spoke to Skipper, “Skipper, take us home.” Skipper immediately went under the fence at a point where there was not much water. The girls remembered their parents’ warnings, but there were other considerations. The water was higher in the spring, and the fence could not be followed all the way through the swamp. Night was coming on, and they were tired and thirsty.

The girls decided to follow their family friend. He seemed to know just where he was going. Soon they came to a familiar opening in the woods. It was a road, and Ruthie and Lenny knew right where they were. They were about two miles from home. God had used Skipper to lead them to safety.

When the girls got close to home, they heard the cowbells. The cows had heard the girls calling them earlier and had found their way home.

Sometimes, as children of God, temptations can cause us to lose our way. We get off the narrow path of safety. But if we seek the Lord, He will find a way to bring us back home to His flock, even though it may be the long way around.

Children’s Story – Thanksgiving Day

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Every year, for many years, the good people of our land have kept Thanksgiving Day. It comes in the month of November, after the corn, the apples, and the pumpkins are gathered, and after the farmers have cut a pile of wood big enough to last all winter.

By that time, too, the boys and girls who live in the country have had a chance to gather the hickory nuts and walnuts, and the squirrels out in the woods have filled the hollow trees with nuts and acorns.

Then people remember that God has been very good. He has sent the rain and the sunshine, and has made the corn and the apples and the nuts grow. So we have Thanksgiving Day.

Sometimes a snow comes around Thanksgiving time. Then we may remember the little birds, and put out something for them to eat. We ought also to remember poor people and try to make them happy.

Do you know why they had pumpkin pies at the first Thanksgiving, long ago?

It was because they had no apples. So they took the big orange pumpkins and made pies of them. Now we have had pumpkin pies at Thanksgiving so many times that we do not want to do without them.

The first Thanksgiving was at a place called Plymouth. For almost a year the people there had been very hungry.

But God heard their prayers. One day two strangers called Samoset and Squanto visited the settlement. They were native Indians who lived on the land. They taught the settlers how to grow food on their new soil. So the pilgrims made new friends and learned how to grow food in their new home. With the help of Squanto and the other members of his tribe by the end of the season the Pilgrims had an abundant harvest.

To celebrate the harvest the Pilgrims invited the Indian tribes to the feast. The Indians helped the settlers hunt for the feast. And a large feast of corn, roasted meat, pumpkin pie, and fruits was shared. The Pilgrims dedicated this day to getting together with friends and family and thanking God for the abundance of good food and those they love.

And so began the tradition of Thanksgiving.

 

Night and morn

Shocks of corn

Stood ‘round Plymouth Town;

Then freeze

Nipped the trees

And the nuts came down.

 

Late that fall

Indians tall

Came to Plymouth Town,

There to eat

Corn bread sweet

And turkey roasted brown.

 

All the men

Quickly then

To the feast sat down;

Three whole days

Thanks and praise

Rose to God on high.

 

History Stories for Children,
John W. Wayland,
©1991, 23–26.

Children’s Story – The Loving Father

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There was once a dad who had a three-year-old son named Brandon. One day, Brandon saw his dad eating cookies in the living room, and he said to himself, “Daddy loves cookies with milk. So I’m going to give Daddy a glass of milk.” With that thought, Brandon went into the dining room and dragged a chair from the dining room into the kitchen, leaving a trail of scratch marks on the floor.

Brandon climbed up on the chair and hitched himself onto the counter to pull at the cabinet door. Wham! It smashed against the adjacent cabinet door, leaving a gash where the handle hit it. Brandon reached for a glass, accidentally knocking two others off the shelf. Crash! Tinkle, tinkle! But Brandon did not care. He was thinking, “I’m going to get Daddy some milk!”

Meanwhile, Brandon’s dad was watching all this, wondering if he should step in and save the rest of his kitchen. He decided, for the moment, to watch a little more as Brandon scrambled off the chair, dodged the pieces of broken glass, and headed for the refrigerator.

Pulling violently on the refrigerator door, Brandon flung it wide open—and it stayed open, of course. Brandon put the glass on the floor—out of harm’s way, supposedly—and grabbed, not the little half-gallon of milk, but the big gallon container that was full of milk. He ripped open the top, poured it in the vicinity of the glass, and even managed to get some milk in the glass. The rest went all over the floor.

Finally done, Brandon put the milk carton on the floor and picked up the glass, yelling, “Daddy, I got something for you!” He ran into the living room, tripped, and spilled milk all over the place—the floor, the sofa, his dad.

Brandon stood up and looked around. He saw the broken glass, milk everywhere, cabinets open, his dad with milk from his eyebrows to his toes, and started to cry. Through his tears, he looked up at his dad with that pained expression that says, “What are you going to do to me?”

His dad only smiled. He did not see a kid that just destroyed his house. Instead he saw a beautiful little boy whom he loved very much. It did not matter what he had done. Brandon’s dad stretched his arms out to hold his little boy tight and said, “This is my son!”

When we talk about God as our Father, the kind of father we are talking about is Brandon’s father. God is a father who loves us unconditionally, even though we make a real mess of things. Jesus told a similar story about another son who messed up. We call the story “The Prodigal Son.” It also could be called “The Parable of the Loving Father,” because just like Brandon’s dad, the father in the story threw his arms around his son and said, “This is my son!” Ask your mom or dad to read the story about the prodigal son to you from the Bible. (See Luke 15:11–32.)

Children’s Story – The Brown Towel

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One who has nothing can give nothing,” said Mrs. Sayers, the sexton’s wife, as the ladies of the sewing society were busily engaged in packing the contents of a large box, destined for a Western missionary.

“A person who has nothing to give must be poor, indeed,” said Mrs. Bell, as she deposited a pair of warm blankets in the already well-filled box.

Mrs. Sayers looked at Mrs. Bell with a glance, which seemed to say, “You who have never known self-denial cannot feel for me,” and remarked, “You surely think one can be too poor to give?”

“I once thought so, but have learned from experience that no better investment can be made, even from the depths of poverty, than giving to the Lord.” Seeing the ladies listening attentively to the conversation, Mrs. Bell continued: “Perhaps, as our work is finished, I can do no better than to give you my experience on the subject.

“During the first twenty-eight years of my life, I was surrounded with wealth; and not until I had been married nine years did I know a want which money could not satisfy or feel the necessity of exertion. Reverses came with fearful suddenness, and before I had recovered from the blow, I found myself the wife of a poor man, with five little children dependent upon our exertions.

“From that hour I lost all thought of anything but the care of my family. Late hours and hard work were my portion, and to my unskilled hands it seemed at first a bitter lot. My husband strove anxiously to gain subsistence, and barely succeeded.

“Everything seemed against us. Our well-stocked wardrobe had become so exhausted that I felt justified in absenting myself from the house of God, with my children, for want of suitable apparel. While in this low condition, I went to church one evening, when my poverty-stricken appearance would escape notice, and took my seat near the door. An agent from the West preached, and begged contributions to the home missionary cause.

“I tried in vain to sleep that night. The words of the text, ‘Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom,’ seemed continually sounding in my ears. The eloquent entreaty of the speaker to all, however poor, to give a mite to the Lord, and receive the promised blessing, seemed addressed to me. I rose early the next morning, and looked over all my worldly goods in search of something worth bestowing, but in vain; the promised blessing seemed beyond my reach.

“Hearing that the ladies of the church had filled a box for the missionary’s family, I made one more effort to spare something. All was poor and threadbare. What should I do? At last I thought of my towels. I had six, of course brown linen, but little worn. They seemed a scanty supply for a family of seven; and yet I took one from the number, and, putting it into my pocket, hastened to the house where the box was kept, and quietly slipped it in. I returned home with a light heart, feeling that my Saviour’s eye had seen my sacrifice, and would bless my effort.

“From that day success attended all my husband’s efforts in business. In a few months our means increased so that we were able to attend church and send our children to Sabbath-school, and before ten years had passed, our former prosperity had returned fourfold.”

“Well,” exclaimed Mrs. Sayers, “if we all had such a self-denying spirit, we might fill another box at once. I will never again think that I am too poor to give.”

Children’s Story – God Will Take Care of You

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It was late summer and extremely hot. In our backyard was living the prettiest bluebird pair that you have ever seen, and they had hatched four baby bluebirds that were doing great. It was indeed a perfect time—plenty of food in the bird feeders and fresh water in the birdbath. There were cardinals, chickadees, titmice, and blue jays that ate at the bird feeders at the edge of the property. The bluebirds had already taught the squirrels to go around and not to cut across the yard close to their bluebird box.

Then it happened. On a fatal day in August, a hawk swooped down on the mother bluebird, killed her, and carried her off. There was still a week and a half before the four little bluebirds would fledge (have the feathers necessary to fly)! Daddy Bluebird went into overdrive. He flew back and forth with food! He didn’t stop! His feathers were ruffled, and he was tired by the third day. It looked like his dedication was going to do him in. I thought, he needs help, and he needs help now, so I started digging worms for him.

The first time I put the worms down, three-fourths of them got away. What could I do? I decided that if I cut the worms in thirds, that would slow them down and make it easier for Daddy Bluebird to get them and feed his little ones. Digging became a chore, so I started buying fishing worms and cutting them up and placing them in the same feeding area at the same time each day. It got to the place that he would be waiting for me. He started looking better, and the little ones were thriving.

The anticipated day arrived for the little ones to fly! The first three were successful, but that fourth one came out of the nesting box, fell to the ground, and could not get off the ground. Thinking I could still be helpful, I got a board, let him jump up on it, and held it up so he could get into a tree. Now, Daddy Bluebird did not like this at all. He made the little fellow get back on the ground and told me, in his own way, to mind my own business, that I was in the way. Finally, the little fellow managed to get into the tree on his own and Daddy Bluebird was satisfied.

On a warm day in September, I looked out in my backyard and saw a flock of bluebirds. It was as if Daddy Bluebird had been telling his story everywhere, and they all came to see. They were all around that hard spot on the ground where I had put the worms every day. It seemed that he was telling them, “It was here on this hard, hard ground that the worms would appear at the same time every day. It was a miracle! Life is good where we live.”

Life is always good when we live in the sheltering arms of God. God tells us to trust Him and not to be afraid. “Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God? But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows.” Luke 12:6, 7. As I cared for a little bluebird that needed extra food for his brood, God takes care of me, and He will take care of you. We serve a mighty God! We will be able to bring our friends to that “hard spot on the ground” and say to them, “Here, right here is where God did a miracle for me!”

Children’s Story – How Much Does a Prayer Weigh?

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Louise Redden, a poorly-dressed lady with a look of defeat on her face, walked into a grocery store. She approached the owner of the store in a most humble manner and asked if he would let her charge a few groceries. She softly explained that her husband was very ill and unable to work; they had seven children, and they needed food. John Longhouse, the grocer, scoffed at her and requested that she leave his store.

Thinking of the needs of her family, Mrs. Redden pleaded, “Please, sir! I will bring you the money just as soon as I can.”

Mr. Longhouse told her he could not give her credit, as she did not have a charge account at his store.

Standing beside the counter was a customer who overheard the conversation between the two. The customer walked forward and told Mr. Longhouse that he would stand good for whatever Mrs. Redden needed for her family.

Reluctantly, Mr. Longhouse, in a gruff voice, asked, “Do you have a grocery list?”

“Yes, sir,” Mrs. Redden quickly responded.

“Okay,” he said, “put your grocery list on the scales, and whatever your grocery list weighs, I will give you that amount in groceries.”

Mrs. Redden hesitated a moment with a bowed head, then she reached into her purse, took out a piece of paper and pencil, and scribbled something on the paper. She then carefully laid the piece of paper on the scale with her head still bowed. Mr. Longhouse and the customer stared in speechless amazement as the scales went down and stayed down.

Still staring at the scales, the grocer man turned slowly to the customer and said begrudgingly, “I can’t believe it.” The customer smiled, and the grocer man started putting groceries on the other side of the scales. The scale did not balance, so he continued to put more and more groceries on them until the scales would hold no more. The grocer man stood there in utter disgust.

Finally, he grabbed the piece of paper from the scales and looked at it with greater amazement. It was not a grocery list; it was a written prayer, which said: “Dear Lord, you know my needs, and I am leaving this in Your hands.”

Mr. Longhouse bagged the groceries he had gathered and placed on the scales and gave the overflowing bags to Mrs. Redden. As he stood in stunned silence, Mrs. Redden thanked him and left the store. The customer handed a fifty-dollar bill to Mr. Longhouse, as he said, “It was worth every penny of it.”

It was sometime later that Mr. Longhouse discovered the scales were unexplainably broken. Only God knows how much a prayer weighs!

“For verily I say unto you, That whosoever shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that those things which he saith shall come to pass; he shall have whatsoever he saith. Therefore I say unto you, What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive [them], and ye shall have [them].” Mark 11:23, 24.

Children’s Story – The Ant and the Contact Lens

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A young woman named Brenda was invited one day to go rock climbing with some friends. Although she was not a skilled rock climber and was apprehensive about the excursion, she went with her group to a tremendous granite cliff. In spite of her fear, she put on the necessary gear, took hold of the safety rope, and started up the face of the rock. About half way up the rock was a ledge where she stopped to rest. As she was hanging there, the safety rope snapped against Brenda’s eye and knocked out one of her contact lens.

There she was, on a rock ledge, with hundreds of feet of the sheer granite rock below her and hundreds of feet above her. As she hung there, she looked and looked and looked, hoping the contact lens had landed on the ledge, but it just was not there. Far from home, her sight now blurry, Brenda was desperate and began to become upset. Before continuing her climb, she prayed to the Lord to help her find the missing lens.

When Brenda reached the top of the cliff, a friend examined her eye and her clothing carefully for the lens, but there was no contact lens to be found. She sat down, despondent, waiting for the rest of the group to complete the climb up the face of the cliff. Looking out across range after range of mountains, she thought of the verse that says, “The eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth.” 11 Chronicles 16:9. She prayed, “Lord, You can see all these mountains. You know every stone and leaf, and You know exactly where my contact lens is. Please help me.”

Finally, everyone in Brenda’s group reached the top. Then they made their way down the trail to the bottom of the massive rock. At the bottom, a new party of climbers was just starting up the face of the cliff. One of them shouted out, “Hey, you guys! Anybody lose a contact lens?” That would be startling enough, but do you know why that climber had spotted the lost lens? An ant was moving slowly across the face of the rock, carrying it on its back.

When she got home, Brenda told her father, a caricature artist, the incredible story of the contact lens, the prayer, and the ant, so he drew a picture of an ant lugging a contact lens with the words, “Lord, I don’t know why You want me to carry this thing. I can’t eat it, and it’s awfully heavy. But if this is what You want me to do, I’ll carry it for You.”

It would probably do some of us good to occasionally say, “God, I don’t know why you want me to carry this load. I can see no good in it, and it’s awfully heavy. But, if you want me to carry it, I will.” “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” Philippians 4:13.

Children’s Story – Moses the Cat

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“Meow, Meow, Meoooooooow!”

“Do you hear that?” my wife, Regina, asked.

“Yes, it sounds like a cat.”

“Meow, Meooooow, Meooooooooow!”

“Richard, you better go check. It sounds like it is in trouble.”

As I walked down the hill to the creek behind our house, the pitiful cries grew louder and louder. At the creek, I discovered a small, gray kitten caught in a tangle of roots on the far side of the creek. To reach it, I had to find a narrow place to wade across the creek, then fight my way through a mass of bushes and briars. When I finally reached the drenched kitten, it frantically held on to the roots. I had to pull with all of my strength to retrieve it.

Because of how fiercely the kitten had struggled to hold on to the roots, I was afraid that it would fight me like a little tiger, but when I held it close, it melted into my chest. Almost immediately I heard a soft, gentle purring. “Hello, Moses,” I whispered. “Your name will have to be Moses because I drew you out of the water.”

I carried Moses to our back porch. Regina brought towels and an old pet taxi, and we dried him off and made him a soft bed in the pet taxi. When I put Moses down, though, he immediately climbed up my leg and perched on my shoulder.

Our back porch became Moses’ home. He was firmly attached to it. The world beyond the back porch was a strange and scary place into which he would not venture. If I carried him into the yard, he would begin desperately clawing and fighting. He wanted down so he could get back to the safety of the back porch.

As I remember how Moses came into our lives, it reminds me of how my relationship with God has developed. I remember being in the creek. In Psalm 69:1–3, David wrote about his experience in the creek: “Save me, O God! For the waters have come up to [my] neck. I sink in the deep mire, where [there is] no standing; I have come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me. I am weary with my crying; my throat is dry.”

When Moses cried out, I came to his rescue. God has made a promise to us. “Call to Me, and I will answer you.” Jeremiah 33:3. When we cry out, God will answer our call, and He will bring us to a place of safety.

Moses found a place of peace and safety on the back porch. He knew that as long as he was there nothing bad would happen to him. God has provided a place of peace and safety for us. “Great peace have those who love Your law, and nothing causes them to stumble.” Psalm 119:165. We need to look at God’s law the way that Moses looked at the back porch. He realized that it was his place of peace and safety, and he wanted to be there. Anyplace else made him very uncomfortable.

Many times we look at God’s law as a jail. We feel that it creates uncomfortable restrictions. We need to ask God to give us a love for His commandments and to instill in us a desire for the peace and safety of His law. No one forced Moses to stay on our back porch; he stayed because he loved the feeling of security. That is how we should view God’s law. “For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments. And His commandments are not burdensome.” 1 John 5:3.

Children’s Story – Wellington

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Grandma lives on a farm in Missouri where she raises English Bulldogs. One of her special bulldogs is named Wellington. Wellington is a good-looking, broad-chested, block-headed, male English Bulldog.

Wellington had always been kept in an enclosed, 8-foot by 12-foot kennel, close to Grandma’s house. One day, Grandma decided to move Wellington to a new, outdoor run. This run was a 16-foot by 16-foot area with a nice wooded dog box made especially for him. But once there, Wellington barked and barked. His neighbor, also an English Bulldog, fought with him through the fence. Wellington would whine and bark, then they would fight again. On and on Wellington barked and fought, long into the night. Wellington did not like being cast into the outdoor darkness where there was “weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

You see, Wellington liked his kennel close to his master’s home with his family. He did not like being outside the kennel. He wanted to be back home; that is why he barked long into the night. When Grandma came out the next morning to let Wellington out of the run for some exercise, where do you suppose he went? He ran as fast as he could right to his old home. He shoved the door open with his strong, burly chest and front paws, then ran to his kennel, unlatched the kennel gate, and hurried inside, where he sat with a big grin of contentment on his face. He was so happy to be back home! Wellington made it quite clear he did not like being outside the kennel. His heart’s desire was to be inside the kennel.

Are you like Wellington? Do you like to be close to your Master, or do you like to be outside the “kennel”? Wellington did not like being outside the kennel. The Bible calls it being cast out into outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. (Matthew 8:12.). Wellington did not want to be cast out! He ran as fast as his stubby legs and big, strong body would move him, straight back to the master’s home. Do you run on the straight and narrow path for the kingdom of heaven, or are you looking to be outside the kingdom, doing your own thing in the outer darkness, far removed from the safety of the Master?

Wellington is a fine example of how we are to be in our actions, focus, and direction. He walks and acts like a champion, as we should walk and act as sons and daughters of the King. All he thought about that long, dark night was how he could return to the safe home of his master, just as we should always be striving for the heavenly home so we can be with our Saviour.

What are the requirements to enter the heavenly home? “Blessed [are] they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city.” Revelation 22:14. When we walk on the straight and narrow path into that heavenly home, we will have a big grin of contentment on our faces, just like Wellington had.

“Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide [is] the gate, and broad [is] the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat: Because strait [is] the gate, and narrow [is] the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.” Matthew 7:13, 14. Will you join me on the straight and narrow path to the heavenly home of happiness?

Children’s Story – Good Neighbor Policy

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When I was growing up, my father used to say, “No matter who they are or what they do, treat your neighbors with love.”

I did not fully understand what he meant until one Sabbath, when on our way to church, we spotted someone shoveling corn from our crib into a battered old truck. Dad stopped the car and got out. The man looked up and froze. I knew this man!

Everybody in town had suspected him of stealing their gas! No one had ever confronted him for fear of his violent temper. Now we had caught him red-handed! What was Dad going to do?

My father called to him and kindly said, “If that is not enough, come back tomorrow. Take as much as you need. Remember, you are my neighbor.” The man dropped his shovel and hung his head.

He never stole from us or anyone else in town again, as far as I know. Perhaps he learned how to be a good neighbor that day. I know I did.

“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Leviticus 19:18.

Find the following words from this story in the word search puzzle.

CHURCH

NEIGHBORS

CORN

SABBATH

CRIB

SHOVEL

FATHER

STEALING

GROWING

TOMORROW

LEVITICUS

TOWN

LOVE

TRUCK

C B G H D M N D U C P F Q P L

D I N R H P E J N M I Q N E H

T R I D G N I L A E T S V T W

W C W S E B G X J C W I R C H

J O O M U J H P N Z T U X T N

N D R S X C B W Y I C C A R H

V R G R Y T O K C K S B Y E E

Y G O M O T R U M C B K H S Z

K N P C T M S D N A A H D A S

S D E J E F O U S C J C D I H

V R T U V O P T T Y H X C F O

F A T H E R V I P K E U U A V

D P D H R E V O L D E M R D E

R A A R W K B C G R F W L C L

S N F W C P O M U E Z W V T H