Children’s Story

Children’s Story – Ten Bucks and A Pony Ride

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“Well, girls,” Dad said. “We are down to just a few cents.” Reaching deep into the pocket of his trousers, he withdrew a small fistful of coins, then opened his fist to reveal the collection of pennies, nickels, and dimes.

“Where do you think we can get some money?” Dad asked. The trio silently pondered their situation and this question, specifically, for a few moments. “I know!” he exclaimed eagerly, his face brightening. “Let’s ask the Lord to help us.” Right there, Dad knelt down with his two young daughters beside him. “Dear Father,” he prayed, “You know we have needs, and we don’t have any money. Please help us to find some. Thank You. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.”

As they opened their eyes after the prayer, Dad seemed to have an idea. “I know, girls! Let’s go to Central Park. Maybe someone dropped ten dollars.” There had just been a carnival at the park, and many people had passed through. Perhaps someone had carelessly dropped a bit of money.

So, believing in the promise, “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find,” Matthew 7:7, the three started walking towards the park. The day was overcast and breezy, so they walked briskly to keep warm. Arriving at the park, they slowly walked along the paths where the carnival had been, casting their eyes from side to side, scanning the grass for any coins or bills. Several greenish papers caught their eyes, but upon investigation, they were only pieces of trash.

Suddenly Dad shouted, “What’s this?” He jumped forward to snatch up a green paper, lest it should blow away, out of reach. Quickly he unfolded it and excitedly exclaimed, “It’s ten bucks! Thank You, Lord!”

Walking on a little further, Dad and his girls approached the last few booths that remained from the carnival. One of the girls spotted a pony ride, and the girls eagerly tugged Dad in its direction. “How much for a ride?” Dad asked.

“Ahhh,” the ponies’ owner smiled. “How ’bout a dollar?”

The newly acquired $10 was handed over, and $9 in change was returned. Dad then hoisted his two little girls onto the Shetlands’ sturdy backs. Off they went, round and round and round. They were thankful for the double blessing they had received—God’s answer to Dad’s prayer and the bonus of pony rides.

Children’s Story – Can You Sleep When the Wind Blows

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Years ago a farmer owned land along the Atlantic seacoast. He constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic Ocean. They dreaded the awful storms that raged across the Atlantic, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops. As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received a steady stream of refusals. Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached the farmer.

“Are you a good farm hand?” the farmer asked him.

“Well, I can sleep when the wind blows,” answered the little man.

Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help, hired him. The little man worked well around the farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and the farmer felt satisfied with the man’s work. Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore. Jumping out of bed, the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed next door to the hired hand’s sleeping quarters. He shook the little man and yelled, “Get up! A storm is coming! Tie things down before they blow away!”

The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, “No sir. I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows.”

Enraged by the response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm. To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had been covered with tarpaulins. The cows were in the barn; the chickens were in the coops; and the doors were barred. The shutters were tightly secured. Everything was tied down. Nothing could blow away. The farmer then understood what his hired hand meant, so he returned to his bed to also sleep while the wind blew.

When you are prepared, spiritually, mentally, and physically, you have nothing to fear. Can you sleep when the wind blows through your life? The hired hand in the story was able to sleep because he had secured the farm against the storm. We, as believers in Christ, secure ourselves against the storms of life by grounding ourselves in the Word of God. We may not always understand everything, but we need to hold His hand to have peace in the midst of the storms. I hope you can sleep well!

Children’s Story – A Poor Woman’s Prayer

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A Christian lady who often helped the poor was sitting alone in her room one winter morning. Soon her daughter came into the room.

“My dear,” the mother said to her daughter, “I’ve been thinking about old Mr. and Mrs. Woods off and on all night. I know they are going through a hard time right now and they could use some help. I wish you would go to the store and buy some groceries to take to them.”

“Of course, Mother,” the daughter agreed. And she turned to leave.

“Oh, and maybe you should take this too,” her mother said, handing her a warm flannel skirt. “It’s cold, and Mrs. Woods might need it.”

The girl bought several bags of groceries and carried them to the house where Mr. and Mrs. Woods lived. She was just about to knock on the door, when she heard Mr. Woods’ voice inside. She could hear him asking God’s blessing on the food they were about to eat. She paused and waited until he had finished praying before she knocked.

As she entered the little home, sure enough, there was Mr. and Mrs. Woods at dinner. Mrs. Woods sat on one side of the table, and Mr. Woods sat on the other. On the table between them sat their dinner—one large apple! This was all the food the old couple had!

With tears in her eyes, the girl set the bags of groceries on the table. And as Mrs. Woods began to fix a nice meal, the young girl listened to their story and their grateful thanks. They told her how they had been sick and how Mr. Woods hadn’t been able to work for some weeks and how they were having a difficult time making ends meet. They told her how they had been pouring out all their troubles to God in prayer and how they had been trusting Him to send them help.

When dinner was ready and their visitor was about to leave, Mrs. Woods went with her to the door. “My dear,” she asked hesitantly, “did you bring the flannel skirt?”

In the excitement of getting the dinner ready, the girl had completely forgotten the skirt her mother had sent.

“Why, yes,” she said surprised. “I did bring you a flannel skirt. But why would you think that I had?”

“Because, dear,” said Mrs. Woods, “when I told the Lord yesterday that we had only one apple left, I also told Him that I needed a warm flannel skirt. And I was just wondering whether He had sent it with you or if He was planning to use someone else to bring it.”

Jesus said, “ ‘Do not worry, saying, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we drink?” or “What shall we wear?” … Your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you’ ” (Matthew 6:31–33 NIV).

Children’s Story – Wall of Protection

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In the late 1700’s, General Napoleon was making war in Europe. Here is a story of faith and trust that happened back then.

The province of Schleswig, on the south shore of the Baltic Sea, was then a part of Denmark. Denmark was friends with Napoleon, and that made the army from Sweden and Russia very mad at them. On the road between Stralsund and the capital city of the province Schleswig, the army was traveling, wrecking villages, and killing people as they went.

In one village, the old widow, Bertha Schmidt, watched in her cottage with her grandson Karl and his bride. They had piled furniture against the door, but that was not much protection against the attack of an angry army. At any moment they expected the cruel soldiers to appear.

It was a blustery, wintry night in January when this wonderful story of faith, trust, and God’s answer to prayer happened. The aged widow sat with her eyes fastened on her Bible. She raised her eyes and, with a bright look, said, “Round us a wall our God shall rear, and our proud foes shall quail with fear!”

“What! Dear mother,” replied Karl. “Is your faith as strong as that? Do you really expect God to build a wall around our poor hut, strong and high enough to keep out an army?”

“Has not my son read,” queried the mother, “that not a sparrow falls to the ground without our Father?”

Karl did not answer, and the family sank again into silence.

Just at midnight there was a lull in the storm. They heard the great clock striking the hour of 12 o’clock. At the same moment, the faint sound of martial music caught their straining ears. The fatal time had come.

In the house, the family drew closer together, and as the aged mother returned the pressure of the grandson’s hand, she again repeated, “Round us a wall our God shall rear, and our proud foes shall quail with fear!”

The music drew near with the confused sounds of tramping and shouting. Soon shrieks and the crackling of flames were heard that told that the destruction was taking place. But no hostile foot came into the widow’s cottage; it stood quiet and unharmed amid the uproar, as if the angels were encamped round about it. At length, the noise ceased; the storm died away, and all was deathly still.

After waiting until morning and wondering at the strange silence, Karl at last opened one of the shutters. Then they understood the strange silence. The snow had piled high around the cottage, completely encircling it with a drift. The snowy wall of white had shut them in, covering the cottage from sight and from danger.

The trusting mother said, “Faithful is He who hath promised: He also hath done it!”

“Thus the cottage was defended

By the wondrous wall of snow,

‘Build, dear Lord, a wall around us,’

Sang the mother, soft and low.”

Children’s Story – The Coal Basket

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The story is told of an old man who lived on a farm in the mountains of eastern Kentucky with his young grandson. Each morning, Grandpa was up early sitting at the kitchen table reading from his old, worn Bible. His grandson, who wanted to be just like him, tried to imitate him in any way he could.

One day the grandson asked, “Papa, I try to read the Bible just like you, but I do not understand it, and what I do understand I forget as soon as I close the book. What good does reading the Bible do?”

The grandfather quietly turned from putting coal in the stove and said, “Take this coal basket down to the river and bring back a basket of water.”

The boy did as he was told. However, by the time he got back to the house, all the water had leaked out of the basket. The grandfather laughed and said, “You will have to move a little faster next time,” and sent the boy back to the river with the basket to try again.

This time the boy ran faster, but again the basket was empty before he reached the house. Out of breath, he told his grandfather that it was impossible to carry water in a basket and that he would get a bucket instead.

The old man replied, “I do not want a bucket of water; I want a basket of water. You can do this. You are just not trying hard enough,” and he went out the door to watch the boy try again.

At this point, the boy knew it was impossible, but he wanted to show his grandfather that even if he ran as fast as he could, the water would leak out before he got very far. The boy scooped the water and ran hard, but when he reached his grandfather, the basket was again empty. Out of breath, he said, “See, Papa, it is useless!”

“So you think it is useless?” the old man asked. “Look at the basket.”

The boy looked at the basket. “It is clean, Grandpa!” he exclaimed. “It is not dirty anymore.”

“Son, that is what happens when you read the Bible,” his grandfather replied. “You might not understand or remember everything, but when you read it, it will change you from the inside out.”

That is how God works in our lives. He changes us from the inside out and slowly transforms us into the image of His Son.

Children’s Story – Crutches on the Altar

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One day a minister received a request from a missionary society to preach a missionary sermon to be followed by a collection for a certain foreign field. The minister put his whole soul into the effort, encouraging the people to give cheerfully for the Lord’s work.

After the sermon, the collection basket was passed as usual, but the minister watched the result with depressed feelings as only small amounts were dropped in. Evidently, his words had not reached the hearts of his listeners. He noticed how those who were well able to give kept looking at the time, eager to be out and about other things.

On the last bench, in the meantime, a battle was waging in the heart of a poorly clad girl. Through an accident, Margaret had been crippled. She could not take a step without assistance. One day a kind lady procured a pair of crutches for her, and since then her life had been much happier. This same week she had ventured for the first time to church. What a great blessing it was to be able to listen to the gospel once more.

As the usher came near with the basket, Margaret said to herself, with a sad heart, “I have nothing to give—‘not a cent’—and there in the foreign land the missionaries are expecting our gifts; they need so much to carry on their work. Oh, what can I do?” These thoughts went through her mind and made her shudder.

“My new crutches could be sold for a sum of money, but I cannot spare them; I must have them; they are my very life.”

“Yes, your life,” said a voice within; “but did not Christ give His life for you? If you give what is your life, some poor souls in Africa will hear that He is their Saviour too. Oh, if you only would!”

Finally a glow came over her face. She pressed a kiss on the crutches and waited, her heart pounding.

The collection basket came to where Margaret sat. The usher knew her well. He gave a friendly nod and was about to pass on when, to his astonishment, she made an effort to lay the crutches on the basket.

The man grasped the situation, took the crutches out of her hand, put them on the basket, and carried them slowly through the aisle, laying them without a word on the altar.

Everyone watched him in breathless suspense. They all knew the young girl, and many eyes filled with tears. The minister, deeply affected, laid his hand on the crutches and repeated solemnly the words of Jesus: “She hath done what she could.” [Mark 14:8.]

What a stir this incident made in the meeting! Suddenly, perspiration came upon the banker’s brow, and he wiped his face with his handkerchief and pulled out his wallet. The rich lady fumbled about for her purse. A local merchant whispered something in the ear of the usher, who passed the collection basket once more from bench to bench. This time money came pouring forth like raindrops.

Afterwards, the people solemnly left the church. One lady stepped up to Margaret and gave back her new crutches. She had redeemed them for the benefit of the missionaries for the sum of one hundred dollars. The happy girl returned home, little realizing how much she had done that day for her Master.

Children’s Story – Little Corners

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Georgia Willis, who helped in the kitchen, was rubbing the knives. Somebody had been careless and let one get rusty, but Georgia rubbed with all her might; rubbed, and sang softly a little song—

“In this world of darkness;

We must shine,

You in your small corner,

And I in mine.” [Jesus Bids Us Shine, Susan B. Warner, 1868.]

“Why do you rub at those knives forever?” asked Mary. Mary was the cook.

“Because they are in my corner,” Georgia said brightly.

“ ‘You in your corner,’ you know, ‘and I in mine.’ I’ll do the best I can, that is all I can do.”

“I wouldn’t waste my strength,” said Mary. “No one will notice.”

“Jesus will,” said Georgia; and then she sang again—

“You in your small corner,

And I in mine.”

“Cooking the dinner is in my corner, I suppose,” said Mary to herself. “If that child must do what she can, I suppose I must. If Jesus knows about knives, it is likely He knows about dinners.” And she took particular pains.

“Mary, the dinner was nicely cooked today,” Miss Emma said.

“That’s all because of Georgia,” said Mary, with a pleased face; and then she told about the knives.

“No,” said Emma to her friend who urged, “I really cannot go this evening. I am going to prayer meeting; my ‘corner’ is there.”

“Your ‘corner’? What do you mean?” Then Emma told about the knives.

“Well,” the friend said, “if you will not go with me, I will go with you.” And they went to the prayer meeting together.

“You helped us ever so much with the singing this evening.” That was what their pastor said as they were going home. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be there.”

“It was owing to our Georgia,” said Emma; “she seemed to think she must do what she could if it were only knives.” Then she told him the story.

“I believe I will go in here again,” said the minister, stopping before a poor little house. “I said yesterday there was no use, but I must do what I can.” In the house a sick man was lying. Again and again the minister had called, but the invalid would not listen to him; but tonight the minister said, “I have come to tell you a little story.”

Then he told him about Georgia Willis, about her knives and her little corner, and her “doing what she could.” The sick man wiped the tears from his eyes, and said, “I will find my corner, too; I will try to shine for Jesus.”

“I believe I won’t go to walk,” said Helen, hesitatingly. “I’ll finish that dress of Mother’s; I suppose I can if I try.”

“Why, child, are you here sewing?” her mother said. “I thought you had gone to walk.”

“No; this dress seemed to be in my ‘corner,’ so I thought I would finish it.”

“In your ‘corner’?” her mother repeated in surprise; and then Helen told about the knives.

The doorbell rang, and her mother went thoughtfully to receive her pastor. “I suppose I could give more,” she said to herself, as she slowly took out the money she had laid aside for missions. “If that poor child in the kitchen is trying to do what she can, I wonder if I am. I’ll double it.”

But Georgia knew nothing about all this. She had let her light shine; and others, seeing her good works, had with her glorified the Father in heaven. Jesus, looking down at her that day, said, “She hath done what she could”; and He gave the blessing.

Dolphins, True Education Series, 24–26.

Children’s Story – The Stolen Orange

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Mama will never know,” thought Flora Marshall, as she took a large orange from the piled-up dish on the table, and, putting it in her pocket, started hastily upstairs.

She was expecting friends to spend the day with her, and had been busily arranging things for the afternoon, but while waiting for them to come, she was tempted to take one of the oranges which had been placed on the table for lunch. She hurried from the room, but had not reached the top of the stairs before her brother’s voice stopped her, calling, “Flora, I see some of your friends coming.”

Flora ran quickly downstairs, but her face was flushed, and she felt miserable and ashamed as she met her young friends, and took them to speak to her mama.

Flora tried to laugh and talk as merrily as any of them, but she could not forget how wrong she had been. Besides this, not having been able to eat the orange she had taken, she was in constant fear lest she might draw it from her pocket.

Poor Flora! She had sinned against God and against her kind mother and had spoiled all her afternoon’s pleasure for the sake of an orange. At lunch, she could not raise her head to meet her mother’s glance, who saw that something was wrong with her, and who said very kindly, “Flora, dear, you are scarcely eating anything—are you not well?” This made Flora ready to cry with shame and repentance. Her conscience was too tender to allow her to be happy while her fault remained unconfessed.

All the afternoon she and her friends played games. Several times she had fancied she had dropped the orange in some of the rough movements of the games, and had gone more than once quietly into a corner of the room to feel in her pocket if it was still there. “How could I be so wicked and so greedy?” thought Flora; “mama always gives me as much fruit as is best for me, and yet I have made myself a thief, and after all have not eaten the orange, or been able to put it back, and it has spoiled all my pleasure.”

When her friends had gone, she sat still, miserable and unhappy for a little longer, and then her resolution was made—she would tell her mama.

With a slow step and a beating heart, she approached her mother. “Well, Flora,” said Mrs. Marshall kindly, “you seem tired and out of spirits tonight; have you come to wish me goodnight?”

“O mama!” sobbed Flora, “I have come to tell you how bad I have been, and how very sorry and miserable I am”; and hiding her face in her mama’s lap, she told the story.

Very gravely, but gently, her mother spoke to her about her sin, and the consequences it had brought upon her. “I shall not punish you, Flora,” she said; “your own conscience has been a sufficient punishment. I should have wondered what was wrong with you had I not seen you take the orange as I passed the door, which was slightly open. Knowing what you had done, I was not surprised that you seemed unhappy.”

“But can you forgive me, mama?”

“I will forgive you, Flora, because you have told me of your fault; but remember there is One above whose forgiveness you must seek as well as mine, whose eye is always upon you, and who is grieved when you do wrong. Before you sleep tonight, ask God to pardon you and to cleanse you from this and every other sin for the sake of His Son, our Saviour Jesus Christ.”

www.WrittenTreasures.org (February 23, 2007).

Children’s Story – The Kingdoms

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It was a fine day in June, many years ago. Frederick William, king of Prussia, a country in Europe, wanted to get away from the noise of the city. So he went for a walk along a quiet road throughout the country.

As he walked along, he listened to the songs of the birds. He picked some wild flowers that grew by the way. After a while he came to a little schoolhouse. The children were at play. It made him glad to see the children happy.

Soon they were called to their lessons. The king followed them into the schoolroom. At first the children were almost afraid to be in the presence of the king. But his kind face and pleasant ways soon won them. He was pleased to see how well they recited their lessons. After a time the teacher asked him to talk to the children.

“I will now ask you some questions,” said the king, “and the child who gives the best answer shall have a prize.”

Then the king held up an orange.

“You know that we all live in the kingdom of Prussia. But to what kingdom does this belong?” he asked.

The children were timid. They did not know just what to say. Every one sat quite still. At last a bright little boy spoke.

“It belongs to the vegetable kingdom,” he said.

“How do you know?” asked the king.

“It is the fruit of a plant, and all plants belong to the vegetable kingdom,” said the boy.

“That is a good answer,” said the king. “You shall have the orange for your prize.”

Then the king took a gold coin from his pocket. He held it up so that all the children could see it.

“To what kingdom does this coin belong?” he asked.

“It belongs to the mineral kingdom, sir,” said another boy.

“Why so, my lad?” asked the king.

“Because it is a metal, and all metals belong to that kingdom,” the boy answered.

The king was pleased.

“You are quite right,” he answered. “You shall have the coin for your prize.”

The children were delighted. With bright eyes and smiling faces they wondered what he would say next.

“I will ask you only one more question,” said the king, with a twinkle of fun in his eye. “Tell me, children, to what kingdom do I belong?”

The king thought someone would say, “To the animal kingdom.”

The children looked at him, but no one spoke. They were a little afraid, because he was the king.

At last, Christel, a little blue-eyed girl, looked up into his kind eyes.

“I think you belong to the kingdom of heaven,” she said softly.

For a moment there was a breathless silence in the room. You might have heard a leaf fall as all eyes turned to little Christel. Even the surprised king hardly knew what to say.

Then he caught the timid child in his arms and kissed her again and again. With tears in his eyes, he said, “May God help me to prove the truth of what you have said!”

From that day, the Lord had a better servant, the people a wiser king.

Children’s Story – What One Boy Did

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Do not tell me that boys have no influence,” said the dark-eyed lady with emphasis. “Why, I myself know a boy of 12 whose influence changed the manners of an entire hotel. Tell you about it? —Certainly! It was a family hotel on the seacoast in southern California, and almost all the guests in the house were there for the winter. We had become well acquainted, and, well, lazy I guess is the best word for it. So we decided that it was too much trouble to dress for meals, and dropped into the habit of coming in just as we chanced to be, from lounging in the hammock, fishing off the pier, or bicycle riding down the beach. Our manners, too, had become about as careless as our dress; we were there for a rest, a good time, and these little things did not matter, we said.

“One day there was a new arrival. Mrs. Blinn, a young widow, with her little son, Robert, as sturdy and bright-faced lad as one often sees. The first time he came into the dining room, erect, manly, with his tie and collar and dress in perfect order, escorting his mother as if she had been a princess, and standing till not only she, but every lady at the table was seated, we all felt that a breath of new air had come among us, and every one there, I think, straightened up a little. However, we looked at one another and nodded our heads, as much as to say, ‘He will not keep this up long.’ We were strangers, and in the familiarity of everyday life, we did not doubt that it would soon wear away.

“But it did not. Rob was full of life, and active and busy as a boy could well be. At the same time, when, 20 minutes before meals, his mother blew a little silver whistle, no matter where he was or what he was doing, everything was dropped, and he ran in to make himself ready. And every time he came to the table, with his clean face and smooth hair and clothes carefully arranged or changed, he was in himself a sermon on neatness and self-respect, which none of us said much about, but we felt all the same. Then, by and by, one and another began to respond to the little silver whistle, as well as Rob. One laid aside a bicycle dress, another a half-invalid negligee, till you could hardly have believed it was the same company of a few weeks before.

“It was the same with manners. Rob’s politeness, simple, unaffected, and unfailing, at the table, on the veranda, upon the beach, wherever you met him; his readiness to be helpful; his deference to those older; his thoughtfulness for all, was the best lesson—that of example. As a consequence, the thoughtless began to remember and the selfish to feel ashamed and the careless to keep themselves more in hand.

“And so, as I said in the beginning, in less than a month the whole atmosphere of that hotel had been changed by the influence of one boy; and the only one utterly unconscious of this was Rob himself.”

This is truly a pleasing incident. We like to think of this boy who, because he was at heart a true little gentleman, drew what was kindly and courteous and gracious in those about him to the surface as by a magnet. In like manner, it is possible for every boy to be so true and kindly and tender, so unselfish of action, so obedient to duty, so responsive to conscience, that, wherever he goes, he shall carry an inspiring atmosphere and influence with him; and whoever he meets shall, because of him, be drawn to better thoughts and nobler living.

<www.WrittenTreasures.org> (March 28, 2007.)